Allsparked Aristal
by Gatekat
Summary: Dead Story. Bayverse/SWAT Kats. When two new factions bring their war to Aristal with a determination to stay on the world so strong they're willing to die for it, Megakat City finds out that nothing can change when everything changes.
1. Better Judgment

**Fandom**: SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong  
><strong>Rating<strong>: NC-17 male/male  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Slash, Furry  
><strong>Summary<strong>: With her pilot and gunner in Dark Kat's dreadnought, Turbokat has to rescue Feral on her own, much to her annoyance.

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><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 1: Better Judgment<p>**

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><p>"Razor, any other ideas for how to stop this thing?" T-Bone snarled as he came around for another pass. Dark Kat's latest version of the spider dreadnought had shrugged off all their artillery so far. The Enforcers were still taking shots at it, but so far the most any of their missiles had done was dent one of the leg panels. "This thing'll be at Megakat Nuclear in ten minutes, at this rate!"<p>

"Get inside and blow either the command center or its power core," the smaller kat responded grimly.

"I don't like it," a female voice growled from the speakers. "There has to be a weapon..."

"Not on board, sweetie," Razor countered.

"I can make it back to base and back here in time!" The voice suggested. "Then we'll blow him right up!"

"Yeah, but he'll do too much damage on the way," T-Bone explained. "You two think another mole missile on the panel we dented will knock an entry port for us? I know we don't have enough to take it down without them, but we need _some_ way inside."

"Yes," the Turbokat responded grumpily even as she loaded the suggested missile. "It's weakened enough."

"Wait outside for us, Blackie. When we're done in there, we're going to need out _fast_," T-Bone told her, arming his Glovatrix even as he brought them around for the shot. "Razor - you want the engine room, or the control center?"

"Engines," the smaller kat chuckled. "They'll be more complicated to sabotage and give us time to escape."

"I do not approve of this plan," Turbokat grumbled even as she swept in for the attack and to deposit her crew in the opening.

"We're not exactly crazy about it ourselves," T-Bone pointed out, almost holding his breath as Razor took the shot and they waited to see if the shot would accomplish what they hoped. The missile's tip began spinning, then collided with the dented plate, catching on the already-twisted metal and ripping a hole in it large enough for the two kats. The Turbokat's cockpit slid back as they shifted to hover near the hole, and its crew leaped inside.

She swept up and out of the way once they were clear and inside, outside her range to help. Grumbling all the way, Turbokat circled, dove and twisted, avoiding everything aimed at her while providing a distraction to protect many of the Enforcers and concealing the fact that she was now crewless.

She twisted out of the way to dodge a blast of chemical webbing aimed at her engines. Unfortunately, protecting herself distracted her from keeping the Enforcers covered, and a second burst of webbing landed in the blades of the lead chopper, gumming it up and sending the vehicle plummeting towards the ground.

Biting back a curse she knew her creator wouldn't appreciate, she dropped into a steep dive and let loose a buzzsaw missile to cut off the top of the crippled chopper and give access to the crew. Normally she wouldn't try to rescue a crew, but this one she knew she'd be expected to. As annoying as the big kat was, he was a passive ally, in private at least.

Besides, she knew that Chance _would_ appreciate it. It didn't hurt to curry the tabby's favor, not with what he'd already come through to accept her to the level he already had.

Commander Feral and his pilot looked up at the Turbokat with shocked expressions as she launched a pair of tethered octopus missiles. Snagging the big xanith and his smaller pilot, she hauled them on board through the bomb bay.

"Stay down and hang onto something, this is going to get a little bumpy!" She warned them from up front, hoping they might just assume there was a third SWAT Kat up front. She pulled up sharply to avoid the explosion as the chopper crashed, turning around to go back and try to get close to the spider again.

"Who the hell are you?" Feral bellowed, demanding answers even as she felt him roll about until he managed to grab hold of an exposed missile attachment.

"A SWAT Kat," she replied evenly, pulling several hard Gs to avoid the series of laser bursts aimed at her.

"With all due respect sir, maybe we shouldn't distract the person keeping us alive?" Feral's pilot suggested.

"Quiet, Hopkins," Feral growled, taking advantage of a moment when the jet wasn't pulling some impossible aerobatic maneuver to make a jump for the gunner's seat, grabbing hold of it and pulling himself towards the cockpit. "Who - kats alive!" He exclaimed as he looked over the seat to see that both chairs were empty, losing his grip and falling back into the rear of the ship when they pulled straight up.

"They're in the spider," Turbokat answered grumpily. "You know, this would have been a lot easier if you did as you were told."

"I don't take orders from vigilantes ... or their remote controlled jets," Feral growled as he grabbed hold of one of the attachments again. "Who's flying this machine?"

"I am you lugnut," she snarled, twisting and diving to keep Dark Kat's attention on her and not the more vulnerable Enforcers. "Razor calls me Blackie."

Before either of them could say anything else, there were a series of explosions inside the spider ship, the weapons going offline.

"What do we do when they get back, Sir?" The pilot asked Feral nervously.

"There won't be much to do until we land," he grumbled.

"Oh stop being such a freak out," Black groaned in frustration. "You'll get dropped off near your forces like always."

Feral paused and considered the front of the jet. "Just how long have you been with the SWAT Kats?"

"Longer than anyone's going to admit," she snapped back. "Now hush if you don't want to be dropped off here," she demanded just before the cockpit slid back.

"Come on, Razor!" T-Bone shouted from the passages leading to their entrance. "Get out of here, or we'll have more than a singed tail to worry about!" He slid down the cables inside the spider-mech's leg, making the jump to the cockpit and strapping himself in without looking into the back end. "Blackie, get ready to get us out of here as fast as you can, that thing's going to blow any minute!"

"Always ready, and we have guests in the bomb bay," she responded as Razor scrambled down the line. "Feral and his pilot. I figured you'd prefer them alive than left to the crash."

"Have they been behaving?" T-Bone asked her, starting to move them away as soon as Razor was in his seat and the cockpit closed. "I'd rather just open the bomb bay to drop bombs at this height."

"All except for his mouth," she grumbled, causing Razor to snicker and look back over his shoulder at the captives/rescues.

"Hold on for the ride, Commander," the gunner winked at him. "We'll drop you off when we're clear."

"At least now there's a pilot on board," the Xanith muttered as the jet sped up and twisted away from the fight, heading back towards Enforcer HQ.

"Hay, she's a better pilot than either of you," Razor growled, not bothering to hide his hurt pride.

"Relax, Razor, we'll be dropping them off soon and then we'll _all_ be happier," T-Bone called back to him. "Any trace of an escape capsule? I lost Dark Kat when the explosions started in the engine room."

"Too many," Blackie responded. "The crew's bailing. Any of them could be his, but probably none of them."

"No need to worry about pursuit then. Maybe we'll get lucky and this time he didn't make it out. We can always hope, at any rate," the tabby grumbled.

"No body, no dead Omega," Black countered grimly. "You taught me that."

"I can still cross my fingers. Commander, any idea what the casualties were this time yet?" He asked their impromptu passenger as they came in towards Enforcer HQ.

"No," the giant kat grumbled. "I don't suppose any of you radioed in to tell them we're not among them?"

"_Please_," Blackie audibly rolled her eyes as they made a much more leisurely way towards the drop point. "Give me a little credit for common sense and tactical training. I called in as soon as you were on board. Felina took charge like a good SIC."

"And any time you feel like calling in to clear the runway for us, we'll drop you off and you can relieve her," T-Bone told him as they approached the busy runway. "There's a comm unit in the back wall there."

Feral grumbled indistinctly and looked around. It didn't take long to spot the comm unit and call in, even less time for the Turbokat to land and open the bomb bay for the two Enforcers to scrambled out.

"Have fun cleaning up, Commander," Razor called down as the Turbokat lifted off again and took to the air. They swept towards the mountains, the detour making it more difficult to track them home.

"So, what happened that Feral couldn't eject from?" T-Bone asked Blackie as they hit cruising speed for a brief run through the canyons and valleys before going home.

"He was in a chopper; sticky webbing gummed up the rotors," she reported. "He really needs to curb his love of being in those things."

"Hell, it's a wonder he hasn't gotten himself killed already," the tabby grumbled. "Slower, easier to take down, and noisier - if he'd just get the mayor to invest in proper VTOL and hover ability, he wouldn't _need_ to be in those things. Everything okay, Razor? You've been pretty quiet."

"Yeah," the smaller cinnamon kat didn't _sound_ particularly okay. "Just sore now that the adrenaline is wearing off."

They both felt a far more intrusive scan than usual sweep through them.

"Nothing serious," Blackie reported with definite relief in her voice. "It'll hurt for a few days though."

Razor bit back a retort, closing his eyes instead. "We've got good painkillers back at the hanger. I'll be fine."

"Maybe a long shower too?" T-Bone suggested with a low purr in his voice, hiding his own concern. "We don't have anything waiting for us to get back _just_ yet, and I can sign for whatever Burke and Murray drop off after you crash for a while."

"Definitely," he chuckled a bit, then reached forward to squeeze his partner's arm. "I'm feeling good enough to help you burn off some extra energy too, buddy."

"I figured if you weren't by the time I was done with your shower, I'd know it was time to haul you into the doc," T-Bone grinned back at him briefly as they turned towards the Salvage Yard. "You and water always have been an easy recipe."

"Guilty," Razor chuckled.

"I will _never_ understand you and water," Blackie grumbled.

"Neither does Chance," he snickered. "He just knows how to take advantage of it."

"And he's going to do just that as soon as we've landed, assuming you didn't get dinged during the fight," T-Bone snickered right back. "How about it, Blackie - you okay to wait until after your Dad's properly taken care of for your post-flight?"

"I can wait," she sighed as she angled in for the landing ramp that would take them two stories down into the fortified bunker that was her home, Jake's workshop and their storage space. "Better than have you two rush it because you want to be elsewhere."

"Aww, I wouldn't do that," Razor stroked a control panel affectionately.

"You know you outrank sex in his books, Blackie," T-Bone smirked. "Maybe not by much some days, but you do outrank it."

"The day I don't is the day you loose your jet," she huffed, but there was no missing the amusement in her tone as they touched down and the sky disappeared. "Still, I'm fine. He didn't land a hit."

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of you once we're done. If I don't, _he'd_ never let me live it down, let alone you," T-Bone smiled. The cockpit slid back as they landed and the two kats unstrapped themselves from their seats. "Say, I don't think Feral would've had the chance, but you did check if he planted a tracer on you, right?" He asked, just thinking of the possibility.

"Of course," she sounded more offended than she was and they knew it. "He tried. I fried it before he let go," she added with a definite snicker. "He's stubborn, but not very imaginative."

"Good girl," T-bone chuckled, giving her frame a light pat after he jumped down to the ground. "You rest up, okay? You did good today."

A low, happy purr that didn't come from her powerful engines was her response, watching through short-range sensors as the pair stripped down, hanging the uniforms in their lockers and headed for the shower room not far beyond.

"You've gotten to like her, admit it," Jake purred as hot water began to rain down on them, matting their fur sleek against hard muscle under it.

"I'll admit it," Chance purred back, running his hands through Jake's fur and enjoying the way his partner pressed and arched into the touch. "It's still a little weird having the jet talk back, but she doesn't take off on her own without a good reason."

"She doesn't," Jake's purr deepened as the first serious touch of arousal entering his scent and the steam filling the room. "Blackie's a good partner. Not like you, though."

"If you were sleeping with the jet, we'd have to have words," Chance smirked, nuzzling his neck and wrapping his arms around the lean tom. "So, just how careful should I be with you, for real? No hiding it from me because you're worried I'll be disappointed."

"I've slept _in_ her, same as you, but not _with_ her," Jake chuckled, turning into the nuzzle. "Just bumps and scratches," he assured his lover. "I've taken worse in training."

"All right then," Chance murmured, running his claws lightly through Jake's chest-fur and down his abs. "In that case, I think we need to wear you out enough to get a nap, don't you?" He wrapped his fingers around Jake's shaft, stroking it lightly.

"Yessss," he moaned and leaned his shoulder back into the heavy frame behind him while his hips pressed forward into the touch. His hands reached back blindly, yet years of intimate familiarity made it easy to find the tabby's ass.

"I'm in the mood to take my time today," Chance purred, stroking Jake's cock lightly. "Any particular requests, or should I just enjoy myself?" He nipped Jake's shoulder lightly between licking kisses under the hot, steaming water pouring over them both.

Jake tipped his head back to claim an extended upside down kiss. "Enjoy yourself," he said with a shiver of excitement, his hands reaching between them to stroke the cock and play with the fine barbs along the shaft.

"No fair distracting me," Chance groaned, turning him half-way around to kiss him, shifting himself so they were both fully under the spray of the water as he pressed against Jake's chest. He stroked the cinnamon tom's cock between them, teasing his barbs with his fingertips as they made out with each other.

Jake simply purred deeper, curling his fingers around Chance's hips, pulling him closer. He snaked his tongue out to taste his lover's mouth, the rough surface found and matched by Chance's tongue after a moment.

It wasn't long before Jake lost his focus, willingly surrendering the active roll his lover and simply enjoying whatever came his way. The water was hot, streaming down his back. The larger, hard muscled body against his was warm and softening in their desire just as their cocks hardened and demanded attention.

Chance broke their kiss, nuzzling and licking his way down to his knees before nuzzling Jake's lightly furred balls, running his tongue from the top of Jake's sheath to the tip of his shaft slowly. The tabby savored every sound his lover made as his rough tongue caught the sensitive barbs along Jake's cock, before finally enveloping him in his mouth.

"Oh, yeah," was breathed more than shouted as Jake's entire body went taunt. His hands found Chance's ears, stroking and rubbing them in encouragement.

Chance grinned around Jake's shaft, his head bobbing up and down, his skilled tongue finding all his lover's most sensitive spots. He slipped a hand up, pressing a thick finger between Jake's ass cheeks and into his anus, slowly working him open to moans of encouragement and a subtle rocking of Jake's hips.

A second finger pressed in easily, the lean kat's body accustomed to the intrusion and the pleasure it represents.

Chance started to purr, taking Jake into the back of his throat as he rumbled deeply and fucked his ass with his fingers. He was taking his time today; as much as he wanted to wear Jake out, he also wanted to savor the time together. It was something they didn't usually get nearly enough of, at least by his estimation. He knew his partner agreed, and there was little either of them could do about it. They had full time work as mechanics, extra shifts when city damage occurred, patrols and emergency calls as the SWAT Kats and the real time sink; keeping their technological edge in the war against the Omegas.

"Oh yeah," Jake shuddered, his body tingling at the attention, the slow build unusual, to be relished, despite how his body objected to the continued workout. The heat of the shower and the pleasure was more than worth any abused muscles.

Slowly but too quickly, the tingling rose in intensity. The skill of the tabby humming around his cock and the fingers stretching his ass was more than his body could take and he yowled, his body tightening and curling forward as he thrust mindlessly into the mouth and against the fingers.

Chance caught his cum in his mouth, pressing hard against Jake's prostate to milk his seed out of his balls. When the cinnamon tom was finished, he stood, kissing Jake and feeding him some of his own seed before he reached over to cut the water and hit the blowers.

"Bedroom before we finish getting dirty?" He suggested with a low purr, his own cock still rock hard.

"Mmm, sure," Jake willing relaxed into the strong grip.


	2. Planning an Op

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Slash, Furry  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Jazz and Wheeljack work out just how they're going to go undercover in Megakat City.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: Special Ops Wheeljack snagged from fanfiction .net/s/6823615/1/Not_the_Usual_Suspects by Jarakrisafis fanfiction .net/u/1267280/Jarakrisafis  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
>"text" organic languages<br>~text~ bond/hardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

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><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 2: Planning an Op<strong>

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><p>In the rocky mountains overlooking the largest city on a strange, alien world, two Cybertronians sat in quiet companionship, watching the city clean up and begin repairs with an efficiency that spoke of a lot of experience. It wasn't unlike watching their own forces repair a base after a Decepticon attack.<p>

**"I should get some samples of that robot,"** Wheeljack observed, his head-fins flashing in time with his speech, their color the blue-white of intense excitement. **"See what the local tech's like. Our initial scans were pretty clearly incomplete."**

**"The technology range in this city is amazing,"** Jazz agreed lazily, though he was anything but that in his attention to the goings on far below and beyond them. **"I want you to focus on what's around the strongest spark-signature we picked up, the combat-capable one. It was hailed as Turbokat by the local military. We need to know just what its _real_ relation to the local law and military is. Then investigate the other one."**

**"You want me to scout it out for a while first, or take the direct route if I can get in broadcast range?"**

**"Scout first,"** Jazz laughed easily, his silvery finish flashing in the setting sunlight. **"I know you want to adopt the little one, but we need to know what's going on before we initiate contact."**

**"You're the one who talks about getting things done as efficiently as possible,"** Wheeljack replied with a laugh of his own. **"Were you able to track it to a home base? I've got the area, but my scanners weren't up to pinpointing the landing zone. Somewhere near the border between the city and the desert, that much I picked up."**

**"See the scrap yard,"** Jazz pointed to the largest one. **"From the trajectory when it disappeared, it set down in the middle of it. I expect an underground base, or at least underground recharge chamber. I want to know what his relationship his to the two organics there before you make a move too. That jet may be sparked, but it's not Cybertronian in construction."**

**"Wouldn't have stayed in jet form through that fight if he was,"** Wheeljack agreed. **"Especially not when he was pulling those other organics out of the helicopter. If you can help me get inside, I can probably take the place of one of the salvage vehicles. Be a good chance to look around when things are quiet, and get to know the area."**

Jazz nodded thoughtfully and focused his full sensory suite on the yard. **"You want one of their work vehicles or one of the scrap?"**

**"Work vehicle,"** Wheeljack said without a second thought. **"I'd rather not have to blow my cover to avoid being cannibalized for spare parts. Besides, it'll give me better chances to be around the city without having to appear unusual."**

Jazz nodded and stood. **"Then lets head down there and see what we're up against to set you up."**

**"What are you waiting for?"** Wheeljack quipped as he jumped down the hill, transforming mid-air and landing with his wheels spinning.

With a grin for his over-energetic friend and cadre-mate Jazz followed him to the wide delta valley floor and towards their destination. With his more advanced ranged sensors Jazz picked out the forms that Wheeljack could choose from and privately decided that the primary tow truck was the best choice, but picked out two other work vehicles as backup in case their on site investigations proved it to be a poor selection.

::I've seen 'Con facilities that had less security than this,:: Wheeljack commed securely as they approached the salvage yard. ::Nothing overt, but I can pick up the sensors. Can you tell if it's safe to shut them down?::

Jazz was silent for a long moment as they slowed their approach.

::Since the natives are sleeping and the sparked jet away, it should be okay,:: Jazz said with a touch of caution as he reached out to tap into the security system that while exceptional by local standards was still sparkling play to the seasoned Ops mech. ::Okay, we're clear. Whoever programmed this has one sideways processor.::

::You'd want to be careful too, if you knew one of two sparks on an organic world,:: Wheeljack pointed out. ::Especially if you were one of the people who helped build the chassis.:: Wheeljack rolled in cautiously, his engine quiet as his scanners swept the area. ::I can tell he's somewhere nearby, sort out where later. Think the tow truck's the best option, though I've got two or three other options in the area we could use when some of the others get here.::

::You think you can make it believable?:: Jazz asked, his own scanners working to take in every detail of the underground facility as well as what was obviously around them. ::If they did build that spark's chassis they probably know their vehicles better than most.::

::I can handle the mechanics without a problem. The modular nature of it might be a little trickier,:: Wheeljack admitted as he got close enough to take in a good detailed scan of the truck. ::Micro-layers of rust on the hookups indicate they don't use those features often through. I can handle the parts, I'll just want to be sure that the scan doesn't put anything critical in the winch framework. If I take that off the existing unit, I should be fine.::

Jazz transformed and nodded. ::All right, you take the form, I'll make the transfer and get rid of the evidence. Just make sure you can transform again afterwards.::

::You _do_ remember who you're talking to, don't you?:: Wheeljack scoffed, transforming back to his bipedal form to remove the winch unit and get a proper scan of the mechanics, his own body rapidly analyzing and shifting joints and hookups where necessary to make the new transformation. His surface colors shifted as well, to the more earth-toned shades of the truck he'd be replacing. He transformed into the new shape, the winch falling into place as he did so.

::I've had more comfortable fits, but I'll be good until we can come clean,:: he told Jazz silently. ::Any sign that the native spark is aware we're here?::

::Nope. It's still flying in the foothills,:: Jazz commed even as he grabbed the real tow truck and began to pull it deep into the savage yard where it could be dismantled and hidden.

::Just be sure you keep the parts close enough together we can find them when they want their _real_ truck back, I'm not looking forward to this being my new career,:: Wheeljack quipped as he settled in to his location.

::I'd never leave you to that,:: he grinned at his friend and occasional partner in crime and sabotage. ::You enjoy being in the field again as much as I'm glad to have you back in Ops?::

::I'll let you know after I've spent six months gathering intel without a chance to tinker with anything,:: Wheeljack chuckled lowly. ::If anything changes on the outside, let me know. I won't be able to keep too close an eye on outside events while I'm working here.::

::I'll keep you as up to date as I can, but I'm off to Sayden Bay in a few rotations,:: Jazz sighed, hating that he had so few agents on such a complex world that he'd had to split everyone up. ::Skyfire's doing the data mining. He'll know more than I do.::

::I'll keep in touch with him too,:: Wheeljack promised. ::You just know how he can be about analysis work; he's a damn good scientist and explorer, but rapid conclusions aren't his strongest suit.::

::True,:: Jazz chuckled as he made short work on breaking down and concealing the original tow truck. ::You know I don't like leaving you alone in an active war zone, and this is a bad one,:: he continued softly, the harmonics of affection, concern and protectiveness rich in his voice.

::Jazz,:: Wheeljack responded seriously. ::It's not like you're leaving me in the middle of Kaon, or even Iacon. It's a war zone, yes, but all evidence points to it being a reasonably safe one. If anything happens, I can handle field repairs until Skyfire could arrange for the evac. This _isn't_ my first field mission, after all. Just watch your bumper, all right? I don't want to have to explain to Prowl why _you've_ gotten banged up while I was having a nice, safe, cushy job posing as a tow truck.::

An affectionate chuckle echoed across the line. ::No one wants that, but _I_ don't want to explain to Skyfire when he goes all Seeker-nuts if you get hurt. Remember last time, just after you two got together? Who knew that shuttle could fight so well.::

::The Terror Twins, if they'd been willing to admit it,:: Wheeljack pointed out. ::I don't think 'poor fighting skills' and 'Seeker' go together at all. Don't worry; I'll calm him down if that ends up happening. Besides, from what we saw earlier they're pretty used to handling Kup's war stories come to life. Any extra changes to the initial plans, given what we've seen? Or should I just leave contact levels to my own discretion based on what happens here?::

::I trust your judgment,:: Jazz smiled over at his long-time friend and occasional mission partner, even though the other mech couldn't see him from the garage he was sitting in.. ::We'll stick to the usual drill. Keep in contact with Skyfire and don't get yourself badly damaged for the sake of your cover. If we end up making contact before the main force and Prime get here, so be it.::

::Will do then. You should probably get going before somebody wakes up inside; I'm picking up that one of the organics is starting to move around.::

::Like anyone's going to catch the Jazz-mech,:: he chuckled, though he did make quicker work of hiding the rest of the tow truck and headed out of the salvage yard on the opposite side as the small building that seemed to be workshop and living quarters for the natives.

It left Wheeljack alone, pretending to be their truck. Though he knew he could comm Jazz or Skyfire, or anyone else on this world, it was in his best interests to avoid that unless all three residents were resting and unlikely to notice his energy grid was a bit more active than normal.

Shortly afterwards, up in the main building, Jake was starting to come around. Chance wasn't in bed with him anymore, and he could hear Blackie starting to come back in from her run around the canyons. Chance was probably getting ready for her post-flight checks.

Instead, he kept a low-level scan running to incrementally familiarize himself with the surroundings. He cut the scan when he picked up one of the organics about to enter the garage area, instead watching as a short, stocky, striped felinoid entered the room.

The organic went to a small computer terminal, bringing up a nearby map and running through it as he sat there in his jeans. He picked up a communicator and activated it.

::Blackie, I'm up and ready for your post-flight. Probably should come in soon, looks like we've got about a half-hour, maybe an hour yet before we get a delivery of scrap from the battle.::

::All right,:: a feminine voice, one that reminded him entirely too much of Chromia, responded. ::Be there in ten. Razor's resting?::

::For now he is,:: the feline in the seat, a tabby according to a quick check of his datafiles on the world from Skyfire, replied easily. ::Any unusual Enforcer activity yet, or have they all gone back to standard cruising patrols?::

::Sharpclaw's and Sunspot's squads are out and about looking for trouble, but everyone else seems to be where they should be,:: Blackie replied. ::At least _somebody_ finally learned that choppers are better at watching the ground than jets.::

::After Feral's almost killed him, he probably felt like he had to prove they were worth the money,:: the tabby joked. ::You know it'd break his heart if the Mayor cut the budget for replacements.::

A mean-spirited sounding snicker came across the comm. ::Not that their jets are any more effective. Now, if they'd invested in a single squadron of Blue Manx, _maybe_ they'd be something other than a distraction we have to rescue, but only if they put the right pilots in them.::

::Please,:: he snorted. ::They've had two Enforcer pilots who could've flown that thing properly. They fired me, and Felina can't handle a full squadron all by herself. Though it would've been fun to try you against her after you were talking. Pity that the one lesson Manx took out of life was not throwing good money after bad, without the lessons about learning how to recognize 'bad' properly. Just don't rebuild Manx Towers for a few years and invest that money in the Blue Manx and the Behemoth - Omega problems cut down by half, easy.::

::Yeah, but not nearly as much fun for us,:: Black snickered as the sound of her incredibly powerful triple engines, engines that Wheeljack was _sure_ couldn't be of this world, became increasingly audible as the black jet approached at full speed.

::Better tone down the engines unless you want to wake up your mother,:: the tabby teased. ::I'll be in the hangar when you get here.::

A snicker replied from the other side, but the roar abruptly dropped to a level that Wheeljack calculated would only just keep the yet airborne. He watched with passive sensors as the tabby shut down the comm line and headed inside while the sparked jet approached.

So the locals had created it... her, to judge by the voice and terms they'd thrown back and forth. Had they done so intentionally, or was this a more complicated situation? Given that there were only two sparks they could detect, it seemed more likely to be a natural development. They'd found a world that was just starting to make the jump from organic life to technological... absolutely fascinating on _so_ many levels. If he hadn't been on a mission, he'd have been tempted to reveal himself and try talking things over; he'd have to do his best not to burn any bridges getting to that point. He particularly wanted to talk with the sparked jet's "mother."

For now though, he had to remain content to watch, listen and carefully scan. The jet came in for a landing and Wheeljack got a good sensor scan of how and where she had disappeared to earlier. It was indeed an underground base and her entrance was a landing ramp. Her approach was slow, relatively quiet, with only one engine of three powered up as she swept in and touched down just below Wheeljack.

He extended his sensors to keep track of her and the tabby in the underground facility, making note of how shielded it was, not just from sensors but from noise and damage. The facility could take a direct hit from almost anything this world had to offer and barely be rattled.

How it could have been _built_ without law enforcement or military involvement was beyond him, but it was pretty clear that the local authorities weren't fond of them, at any rate. And that the feeling was mutual, from what they'd been saying.

When the entrance to the bunker closed, his ability to scan it without turning on his active sensors was pretty well blinded, so he was forced back into focusing his attention upstairs. Several smaller organics in the area, animals to judge by their size and behavior. No signs that there was anybody out here beyond the two he'd already heard mentioned, at least not regularly.

The one sentient there, a kat roughly half the mass of the tabby who's designation is apparently Razor, was deep in recharge with minor damaged. Scrapes, cuts and bruises, but nothing that was likely to interfere with the organic's functioning. Considering what was underground, above ground was disturbingly run down and low-tech.

A convoy of three large vehicles is approaching ... the salvage delivery mentioned earlier. Razor still hasn't moved, but the tabby had come back up to the surface.

The tabby walked past him, heading outside just before the vehicles arrived. The first one backed into the lot slowly, and was starting to unload its contents when the tabby hopped up onto the running board next to the door.

"Drop that on our doorstep, and you'll be poster children for the city offering free dental to salvage haulers," he told the diminutive kat in the driver's seat with a cheerful, mockingly friendly tone in his voice.

The small kat's heart rate spiked; he's afraid of the tabby. Pheromones indicate it's not mutual, but there is something here the tabby fears, though not nearly as much as the small one.

The dumping stopped and the truck moved further into the property, away from the central building, and leaves it's cargo where the tabby indicates before the trucks leave. He walks into the garage and grabs the keys off the wall before he hit a few buttons near them. An automatic winch system in the garage hauled out what looked like the bucket of a small front end loader, moving it into position for the tabby to bolt onto the mounting slots on Wheeljack's new body. With that done, he climbed into the front seat, starting him up and moving him out towards two loads of high-end mechanical debris and one pile of more mundane vehicle parts and debris that might be salvageable.

It was dull, but satisfying work for Wheeljack, as it gave him a chance to get good passive and ultra-low power sensor scans of the technology. It was a varied as they'd first assessed, if not more so. It also have him plenty of personal contact with one of the two organics that he was assigned to understand.


	3. Killing Time

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Wheeljack/Skyfire  
><strong>Rating<strong>: R for mech/mech  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Slash, Furry, Dirty Talk, Mechpreg talk  
><strong>Summary<strong>: A horny Skyfire is stuck in space while his lover is stuck in Megakat City, and somewhere in there Jazz gets the shock of a lifetime.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>::text:: commradio chatter  
>Special Ops Wheeljack snagged from fanfiction .nets/6823615/1/Not_the_Usual_Suspects by Jarakrisafis fanfiction .net/u/1267280/Jarakrisafis

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 3: Killing Time<strong>

* * *

><p>After sixteen local solar cycles of generally quiet inactivity, Wheeljack was starting to feel more comfortable with his current position. Of course, with that comfort came the crushing boredom that was part of the job. He wasn't on the rims all the time wondering if they'd notice the dismantled parts of their own tow truck, but that just meant now he was missing actually <em>doing<em> something. It was even worse with the smaller organic being a brilliant tinkerer and inventor in his own right. He wanted to pick his brain so badly it hurt some orns.

Fortunately, he did have an outlet or two.

::Skyfire, how's the data mining going?:: He asked over a tightly shielded communications band.

::As well as can be expected with the fractured nature of technology and government, and the utterly decrepit state of most information networks here,:: the giant shuttle grumbled good naturedly. ::Are you board out of your processors yet?::

::Well on my way there, particularly with all the different gadgets and vehicles I'd love to get to go over. I'd say they've developed a reliable working subspacing technology that can contain living beings safely, but it only seems to be in a handful of devices.::

::Really?:: surprise laced Skyfire's voice. ::Nothing I've come across indicates that knowledge exists. Perhaps one of your targets invented it?::

::I'm sure he did,:: Wheeljack clarified. ::I'm still thinking micro when I say 'they' and 'them' most of the time. What information do you have on the SWAT Kats? I've got my impressions over here, but we want official as well as unofficial.::

::Officially they are vigilantes. I've dug up the occasional story about them in other city-states, largely when whatever disaster they help with affects those beyond Megakat City, but it seems that as big a story as they are in your area the news doesn't travel much. Nothing I've found indicates any level of official support, even as a black op, except for the obvious lack of effort to catch and keep them.::

::Which, given their obvious support from higher _and_ lower in the political structure, could just be this Commander knowing he'd have a mutiny on his hands,:: Wheeljack observed, considering the files he had access to. ::You don't want to arrest somebody a good number of your people owe their lives to, especially when your second in command is up there with Ironhide on the stubborn scale, from the sound of her.::

::And skill,:: Skyfire agreed. ::Not to mention a far more popular leader, along with the Mayor's SIC. I'm still trying to work out how the two males keep in power with such obvious replacements as SICs.::

::Institutional inertia is a great friend to the incompetent, and the loyalty of your second a friend to the unpopular,:: Wheeljack pointed out. ::It certainly helped out in the labs often enough before the war. At least that's how things sound on this end. Any signs of deeper corruption around here that the 'Cons are likely to be able to take advantage of?::

Skyfire made something approaching a rude noise. ::The city leader, Mayor Manx, is as corrupt as they come while sane. He doesn't seem to be agreeable to blatant violence, but he'll do anything for money or to stay in power. You've got a major mob stronghold, except for the part where Commander Feral seems to be all but incorruptible on that front. It's not nearly as bad as where Jazz is in Sayden Bay, but you're probably sitting in a Con stronghold once they show up.::

::A Con stronghold with a very young, Seeker friendly Sparkling,:: Wheeljack sighed. ::This is going to be a real headache if we don't get to make friends first.::

::Agreed,:: he seemed to hesitate. ::Do you want me to come ... to talk to her? She's likely more receptive to another flier.::

::If things start to come to a head... she might take another inventor well too, given that everything points to Jake having built her and developed her enough to kindle her Spark. We'll have to see how things develop over there. Until then, I'm keeping you to myself,:: he said teasingly.

::I'm always yours,:: Skyfire rumbled with a shimmer of desire. ::You're _mine_.::

::Gladly. Miss you, out here,:: he said, his own desire evident. ::Of course, if I were setting up my lab with you, we probably wouldn't get _any_ work done,:: he teased.

::Oh, I think we would,:: the shuttle's grin came through his voice. ::Just not in setting up the lab. This place sets off _all_ my generative desires, and you're in the middle of them.::

::Now _that's_ a new one,:: Wheeljack chuckled mentally. ::Somehow though, I don't think Jazz would appreciate that. How long has it been since you've been interested in trying to kindle?::

There was a lingering pause before Skyfire answered. ::Not since Skywarp ... before the war,:: he said quietly, intense pain clearly audible.

::I'm sorry, Sky',:: Wheeljack said, devoting more attention to his aching lover. ::Didn't mean to bring it up like that. It is odd that you're thinking about it again though. Thinking that this world will be a good one to try and settle on?::

::Seeker code thinks it is,:: he forced himself away from painful memories of betrayal and abandonment by his intended bondmate. ::The energy here, resonance, resources ... this is a good place to nest. It's worth fighting for.::

::Make sure that goes into your reports,:: Wheeljack offered. ::If there's something that's triggering your code, we _really_ need to push for this one. We might be able to start building a new home here, if we can make nice with the locals and find somewhere to establish ourselves.::

::There are plenty of uninhabited locations we are well-able to exploit for a new city,:: Skyfire's voice crackled. With need finally given voice, it was taking everything he had not to fly to his lover and claim him, bond and kindle new life at once. ::Don't you feel it? This place is _different_. So much like Cybertron.::

::I don't feel it that strong, but you're right,:: Wheeljack admitted. ::I've been thinking that the badlands out here would be a perfect place to establish a new Iacon. Enough empty, level terrain that isn't used by much of anything that we wouldn't be seriously disrupting the local ecology, room for enough reliable solar collectors to power half of Cybertron... We'll have to be careful about it, but it feels like a good place to _take_ that sort of care. First planet I can think of that feels this Spark-friendly.::

The rumble of Skyfire's engines was audible over the comm, and Wheeljack knew the tone all too well. His own engine revved in reply before he could stop it.

::I want to fly in and steal you away,:: Skyfire struggled to control his voice. ::Show the entire world you're _mine_.::

::Wish you could, but I don't think Jazz would appreciate that - or the locals,:: Wheeljack answered with some difficulty, trying to calm his lover down, as well as himself. ::I don't think they're quite ready for that, and it would _definitely_ blow my cover.::

Skyfire's powerful interstellar engines roared over the comm, and it was lucky for them both he was in orbit, concealed from curious sensors and ears.

::Then give me your voice,:: the shuttle demanded shakily, his circuits and voice hot with need. ::You know how much I love your voice, telling me what you're about to do.::

::You mean like if I told you about what I'd do to break in our lab space after we finished setting up a new Autobot City?:: Wheeljack offered him teasingly. ::Walking up behind you while you're resting in your lab chair, reaching up, and running a vibro-probe along the edges of your wings?::

::Yesss,:: Skyfire moaned. Wheeljack was sure those wide white wings quivered with the word, memory sensor-ghosts making sensor nodes charge. ::Oh, you know what that does to me, activating all those sensors when I'm not in flight.::

::Why do you think I do it to you?:: Wheeljack asked him with a smirk in his voice. ::Of course, I'd have locked the bay to the lab by then, so we couldn't be interrupted without at least a little warning. That'd give me plenty of time to torture you like that, setting off your wing sensors with light touches, getting you all nice and warmed up for what comes next. See just how long it took before you wouldn't stay in your chair anymore, and got up so I had to move on to doing something else.::

::I'd be a quivering mess,:: Skyfire's voice trembled. ::I can indulge in you teasing my wings for joors, wrapping you in my field and feeding some of it back so you know just how _good_ you make me feel. Nut eventually I'd slid to the floor, unable to stay upright. I want you, anything you'll give me. I can only watch, my firewalls down, panels open, as you decide what to do with me next.::

::And I'd make you wonder,:: Wheeljack purred, his engine revving almost inaudibly. ::Climb on top of you, slide my hands along your cables and joints, tie our sensors together so you can see yourself squirming as I explore. I'd make you wait until you were whining before I'd finally slide down and give your poor spike some attention. Of course, by then, I'd be ready for some myself.::

::I'd use that connection to make you _feel_ some of what you're doing to me,:: Skyfire panted shamelessly. ::I'm so charged up it's dancing along my frame, licking at your plating, spiraling along the sensory lines in my spike. Please, _touch_ me.::

::That's when I'd do it, give you what you were so hungry for. Stroke your spike, go at you with my glossa until your first overload. Then, when you were still all relaxed and loopy, I'd press up into your valve to have my own fun.::

::Ohhhh,:: Skyfire's moan rippled across the comm, and Wheeljack was sure he'd transformed to extend his spike and stroke it. ::Ohh, you feel so good, so very good, Jack. You know where every sensor node and line is, just where to press, where to rub, where to let the charge arc between us.::

::And I know just when the right time is to open up so we can go spark-to-spark. Right there, with nobody around, nobody else who can get in, nothing to worry about... just you, me, and a chance to try starting an Autobot trine.::

::Yes!:: Skyfire whimpered, his engines roaring at full power in the background, his voice shaking and static laced as he came to the bring of overload floating in space. ::Or gestalt. Your spark is strong, your systems advanced, I'm big enough to carry five...:: his voice cut off with a roaring scream as he went over the cliff edge of an intense overload.

::Helps that I actually know how to build them,::: Wheeljack mused, sending a softer set of pulses across their comm line to 'be there' for Skyfire the only way he could from here. ::You owe me once I'm off-assignment,:: he teased once he was sure Skyfire's processors were back online.

::I will,:: the shuttle promised, his voice still unsteady. ::I'll pay you back and then some. In a place I can talk you to overload?::

::If I make that much noise, they'll be coming to check on me, let alone what the overload would do on their sensors,:: Wheeljack chuckled. ::Don't worry about it, just consider it interest for when we're together again.::

::All right, love,:: Skyfire murmured. ::It won't be soon enough for me. Even if we don't kindle, I _miss_ your touch.::

::I miss yours too, love,:: Wheeljack agreed. ::Before I quiet down on this end, anything interesting coming from the others? It sounds like Sayden Bay is a particularly touchy issue around here, since it shares an continent with them.::

::It's their major economic competitor and from what I've gathered the tension is also from competing mob families and levels of corruption. They were the core of opposite sides of the last planetary-scale war. Saydan Bay attacked Megakat City. It was a very ugly war by their standards. The first nuclear and bio-warfare uses, among other things.::

::Ah, the good old days,:: Wheeljack replied sarcastically. ::By the way, I've got a set of files for you from the 'private set' here. You'll want to pay particular attention to one Professor Hackle, from the sound of things. According to these, he's been able to transfer organic minds into mechanical bodies, among other things. He's number three on my 'want to look through his lab' list,:: he chuckled as he sent the files. ::So, back to the subject at hand; anything from the others for reports that's interesting?::

::Who's one and two?:: Skyfire asked with real interest. ::Mirage is on a small but very wealthy territory dominated by Cape Suzette, which is rather effectively ruled by and as a business by Shere Khan, a tiger xanith in the local terms,:: he added a set of images of the large male. ::Tusandrin is _highly_ xenophobic towards other nations however, only having the minimal contact required for trade and to keep an eye on them. That is changing though. The leader, a Sher Khan, has taken to spending a fair amount of time in Megakat City. While unconfirmed, it is rumored he is there to visit Commander Feral.::

::Tusandrin's attitude to male-male relationships?:: Wheeljack asked him. ::And those would be Razor's and Dark Kat's. Razor sounds a lot like this world's version of me, and I'd say Dark Kat is the most dangerous parts of Skywarp and Megatron rolled into one, but he's the guy who designed the giant spider mech that hit this place just before I took on the mission.::

::At least among the ruling class, it seems to be accepted, as long as the family still has an heir,:: Skyfire explained. ::It is a monarchy with an extensive nobility and multiple secondary mates seem common.::

::Are you sure Mirage is going to want to come _back_?:: Wheeljack chuckled. ::Sounds like he's right at home there. How's the local tech of the region?

::Well below Megakat City, though the atmospheric energy is higher. Locally it is classified as a medium-magic zone, higher than Megakat City, though not by a lot,:: Skyfire's voice was excited at the very different classifications of this world.

::Fascinating... I don't suppose you can actually classify or identify any of that energy? Be handy to know if any of this 'magic' is something we might be able to take advantage of, or that we need to be sure the Cons _can't_.::

There was a pause, then a silent ping to shift channels and three more levels of heavy encryption.

::Allspark energy,:: Skyfire answered once they'd synched again. ::Dissipated, diluted and mixed with energy I can't work out, but it's permeating the entire planet.::

::_Primus_, does Jazz know?:: Wheeljack asked, his processors skipping a cycle as he assimilated the information. If the Allspark landed here, that _definitely_ changed the importance of this world to both sides.

It also made it critical to get Prime here as soon as possible.

Skyfire paused again and Wheeljack was sure he was squirming.

::I'm not _that_ positive. It's quite a claim to make.::

::Sky,:: Wheeljack said gently, ::he at least needs to know it's possible. Yes, it's quite a claim to make. It's also something that we can't afford to wait too long to be sure of. If Soundwave gets a probe out here and picks up on the same things, he won't wait, they'll hit this world like Insecticons. Tell him you're not sure, but tell him it's possible. Worst case scenario, he requests Perceptor for the next team.::

A deep, unhappy sigh came over the comm band, then a faint hum as Skyfire opened a second intensely encrypted line.

::All right, I'm telling him,:: the shuttle agreed unhappily.

Wheeljack was sure he picked up Jazz's excited yelp from a quarter continent away.

::Just be sure he knows you're not sure. He won't hold it against you if you're wrong any more than Prime will, and either way... it's the right thing to do. He'll know how to get what we need here without drawing too much attention.::

::I did,:: Skyfire sounded pained. ::I think he stopped listening after 'Allspark'.::

::I promise you, he heard and _understood_ every sound you made, Sky,:: Wheeljack assured his lover. ::I've known and worked with him a long time. Jazz is like that. He's a communications mech at spark. Besides, he's been in communications _and_ espionage too long to _ever_ stop listening. He's excited, but that's because you just gave him something else to look at more closely, instead of just analyzing _everything_.::

::I trust you,:: Skyfire said softly. ::Where were we?::

::Trying to figure out whether or not Mirage would ever let us cancel his assignment to Tusandrin for anything short of Hound refusing to go near the place,:: Wheeljack offered. ::Which, if I remember the terrain right, he wouldn't do.::

Skyfire snickered. ::Hound would love it there, Mirage does love it there, though he complains in that 'I must find a bad thing to say about anywhere not the Towers' way about the amount of greenery and humidity. Jazz has snickered for a breem every time I forward a report to him. It's a nice break. He does have a lovely laugh.::

::Jazz, or Mirage?:: Wheeljack chuckled, opening a line to Jazz himself.

::Catching up on everything outside the garage with Skyfire; sounds like Mirage might be a good diplomatic envoy to deal with Tusandrin.::

::I have no doubt,:: Jazz's voice was, well, _jazzed_ at a level Wheeljack hadn't heard in a while. ::He's in love with the culture and history of the place.::

::And he'd rather rust out than admit it,:: Wheeljack finished for him. ::He'll be glad to have a job that's 'fitting for a Tower mech' if it works out that way.::

::Jazz,:: Wheeljack could practically see Skyfire roll his optics at the thought of Mirage's voice being pleasant, much less lovely.

::Find him a cube of old Tower high grade and get him talking about Hound, you'll know why I wanted to make sure,:: Wheeljack snickered. ::He actually _can_ be pleasant, you just have to drag it out of him kicking and screaming. Kind of like getting you to decide you wanted more than just friendship with a certain tinkerer,:: he teased.

::Which, I believe, involved _you_ getting overcharged and groping my wings,:: Skyfire's engines rumbled in the background. ::My part was not objecting.::

::Are you two comm-'facing?:: Jazz asked both of them over the separate lines they'd opened with him.

::Just reminiscing, Jazz,:: Wheeljack reassured him. ::I know better than to make noise comm-'facing while I'm undercover.::

::No one can hear Skyfire,:: the question, the teasing tone, hung between the three for a moment before Jazz burst into laughter. ::You did get _him_ off, didn't you?::

::Now, now, didn't you tell me once that a good head of Intel doesn't worry about what his op's are doing during their downtime?:: Wheeljack replied with an answering laugh in his own voice. ::Besides, how would I know? I'm down here, whatever he's up to in low-orbit is his business.::

Skyfire sputtered and Wheeljack laughed again.

::That's down time, and a good head of intel _does_ make sure his ops are getting what they need,:: Jazz's grin was audible. ::You know as well as I do Skyfire needs plenty of attention.::

::And I'll make sure that he gets enough of it to keep him happy without triggering his generative code,:: Wheeljack promised. ::I don't know what you'll do if you've got a batch of tinkerers like me who can _fly_ to keep out of various important places after Prime gets here.::

There was a long, too long, bit of absolute silence on Jazz's side of the comm links, then the subtle harmonic requesting Wheeljack join the link Jazz had with Skyfire and drop the separate one he had with Jazz.

When they all synched and the protocols agreed on encryption sequences, there was another too-long pause before Jazz spoke, his tone deadly serious.

::What's this about generative code?::

::Umm, this world's setting mine off,:: Skyfire would have shrunk away from the small silver minibot if they'd been in visual range.

::It's part of why I'm convinced Skyfire's right about his energy analysis,:: Wheeljack admitted. ::I'd meant it as a joke, not that anything was going to happen out of our control,:: he offered. ::But yes, he has told me that even being in orbit is setting off his generative code. I suspect that if he were to land, it would only be a matter of time before it went fully active.::

::Skyfire, is it focused on Wheeljack or looking for a target?:: Jazz's tone was surprisingly gentle given the subject and chaos it could cause.

There was a lingering hesitation before Skyfire answered.

::Wheeljack,:: he said softly. ::And he's right. Even staying in orbit is only delaying it. A metacycle, maybe two at most,:: he added to answer what he knew was coming next.

::World population in the single digits, and something that at least _scans_ as Allspark energy; I'm not surprised by the news,:: Wheeljack pointed out to them both, though he was privately thrilled his lover's coding liked him that much. It was one thing to seriously date Seeker-kin, quite another for the Seeker code to _approve_ of a grounder that much without a strong spark-bond first. ::The timing's shorter than I'd expected though. Do we know how far out the others are yet, Jazz?::

::Three to four decaorns at last contact,:: Skyfire spoke up. ::Approximately forty-five local days. The unit after them is a half metacycle out::

::Five and a half weeks, plenty of time to have a solid report for Prime and nowhere near your deadline if you stay in orbit,:: Jazz sounded satisfied. ::Update the others on the timing and to be extra-nosey about Allspark-like energy.::

::Yes sir,:: Skyfire responded as began opening comm channels to Mirage, Hound, Trailbreaker and Bumblebee.

::I'll get back to my own observations too,:: Wheeljack offered. ::There's a lot of general weirdness around Megakat City, some of it 'magical' and some of it otherwise. Keep a low profile until further notice, or does the time before the others arrive make it more important to introduce ourselves more openly?::

::If we can manage we should wait until Prime gets here and let him choose the timing,:: Jazz said firmly. ::That said, if you have a good opening to chat with that sparked jet without blowing your cover completely, do it. I don't trust the Decepticons to be that far behind us.::

::Neither do I,:: Wheeljack admitted. ::I'll see if I can come up with some way to do it without actively lying, or admitting to the real truth. I'll have to sign off now too; I've got noises in the main building, I think they're waking up. Signing off,:: he concluded, before closing his comm lines in preparation for a trip out. He just hoped it wasn't to pick up that irritating elderly she-kat again...


	4. Parents always know

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Slash, Furry  
><strong>Summary<strong>: For once, failing to blend in perfectly has some real perks for Wheeljack.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
><em>'text'<em> thought  
>"text" organic languages<br>~text~ bond/hardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter  
>Special Ops Wheeljack snagged from .nets/6823615/1/Not_the_Usual_Suspects by Jarakrisafis .net/u/1267280/Jarakrisafis

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><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 4: Parents always know...<p>**

* * *

><p>Chance and Jake were rolling along the bumpy roads outside of Megakat City, dark rain clouds moving in to encourage them to go just a bit faster in the hopes of getting home while they were still reasonably dry.<p>

"You'd think she'd invest in a decent _car_ instead of just the Megakat Auto Club membership," Chance muttered lowly. "You _sure_ we can't take her over any shortcuts after we pick her up? She might be a regular customer, but she's proof positive that doesn't make them good ones."

The smaller tom chuckled and relaxed against the passenger side window. "I'm not opposed to shortcuts, but _you'll_ have to take her temper for it. She's a wicked aim with that purse."

"Better than putting up with her mouth all the way - or having to shell out for another pizza to keep her from trumping up some sort of a complaint. And then having her bitch about it not having the right toppings. So, different topic," he said. "So I don't want to throttle her _before_ we get her back to the Yard. Does anything seem strange to you around the Yard the last few days?"

Jake tensed, looking over at his partner as he thought back, hard.

"Nothing I can _name_," he said slowly, cautiously. "But yeah, something's been off for a couple weeks now. Ever since Dark Crud's last attack."

"What've you noticed?" Chance asked him. "I can't really put my finger on it either. At least not that isn't going to sound ridiculous," he admitted.

"There were marks in the dirt I can't ID after cleanup. Blackie's been ... fidgety. She's talking about something _nearby_, something strong and attractive, but she's doing it when she's powered down. Talking in her sleep, pretty much." Jake's voice was low, uneasy. "What's the ridiculous stuff? You worked out Blackie was sentient before I did."

"Well, you know, there _is_ something nearby that's strong and attractive," Chance winked over at Jake playfully. "Seriously though, it's some of the weirdest stuff to notice. Like the seats on the truck, I swear this driver's seat feels firmer than it has in years. That knock in the rear shock isn't as loud as usual either. See what I mean?"

Jake nodded. "Yeah, I do. It's nothing _we_ did either. The last rebuilt was six months ago," he shot a calculating look at the dash. "Maybe it's time for another one, see if anything's snuck in."

'_That is _not_ a good thing,'_ Wheeljack frowned mentally, his processor working to try and figure out a way out of this without blowing his cover completely. Jazz wouldn't hold it against him, he knew, but he didn't _want_ to have things end up that way if he could help it.

He just didn't particularly care to be disassembled either.

"Ah, c'mon Jake, you know how much trouble that is," Chance groaned. "Especially if we get a call in the middle of it. I'm not _that_ weirded out by it, are you?"

"Not yet, but if she's like Blackie, better to find out sooner than later," Jake said pragmatically. "If this is a replacement, we need to know _now_."

"Maybe that's what she's picking up on," Chance observed. "If there's another like her around. Be surprised if it was the truck though... yeah, we've worked on her, but not _that_ much."

"Which just increases the odds we've been compromised and _someone_ changed her out," Jake responded. "If this isn't _our_ Turbotruck, I want to find out who built her."

"All right," Chance agreed. "Let's just see what we turn up going over her before we go for the full teardown, it might be something that makes sense in the end."

_'It'll have to be. They might not buy my saying it just happened... maybe if I can get the other sparkling to help vouch for me it'll get them off my tail. Have to do that as soon as we get back to the Salvage Yard,'_ Wheeljack decided, starting to put together his story and act.

The rest of the trip took about an hour, getting to the old she-kat's car, jump starting it, and then listening to her hassle them for the better part of half an hour before they could drive back to the Yard. Fortunately, that meant that by the time they were back they were both entirely too tired to worry about stripping down their truck that night.

After he'd given them some time to be occupied elsewhere in the building, he activated the radio he had built in, broadcasting a weak, tentative signal, what he hoped would come across as a confused ping for response.

The reply was almost immediate; a tight-beam, short-range signal directed at him from below. It was a simple repeating pulse of three tones, a long pause, then another sequence.

He replied with the same sequence, albeit a little bit slower the first time. The second time he replied, it was a match to the first one. She was taking the bait; now he just had to make it pay off.

Now came a new sequence, this one of twenty-one tones of coming in two lengths in sets of two to four tones long, except for the last single beep.

He took about a quarter breem before he responded this time. He reached out through his comm lines, ostensibly looking for a translation of what she was saying, before he replied with his name.

::wheeljack:: he responded. ::what is your name:: He added, repeating her transmission back.

::turbokat the guys call me blackie what are you::

::a tow truck how long have you been awake::

There was a brief pause and Wheeljack caught her transmission to another spot in the building. This one was also tight-beam short range, but regular speech. She informed her creator of developments, including a word for word recital of their conversation.

::three years:: she responded to him. ::i'm the jet you::

::i think it's been about a month, maybe. i was not really that alert at first think there was something in a load i was moving that helped me make some progress i wasn't sure if i should say anything until they started talking about taking me apart tonight::

::jake is the smaller one and a good partner he takes good care of us:: she told him. ::chance is the bigger one that drives he'll be uneasy for a while but will take very good care of us too once he settles we are in a very good place compared to most::

::i would really rather not be taken apart unless I need to be fixed:: he said. ::is there another way we can talk like them i heard you talking with chance once::

::jake can install a voice modulator in you would not take long do you want me to ask him to:: she offered.

::if it will not be too much trouble:: he answered. It would involve a certain amount of 'taken apart and put back together,' but it wasn't likely to get him close to any parts that were risky to have looked at by those with a clue what they were looking at.

"Well, hello Wheeljack," Jake's voice was cheery, his manner and bio-indicators off the scale for excitement as he walked into the bay where the truck was parked. "Blackie said you'd like a voice modulator installed. You can talk to her and she'll translate for me while I work."

::thank you:: he said. ::did I do something wrong before:: He asked, keeping up the act of a confused, somewhat scared 'newborn.'

He could pick up Turbokat's audio transmission to a small device that spoke into Jake's large triangular ear near the base on the outside.

"Not at all," Jake answered, his tone soft and a smile on his muzzle as he patted Wheeljack's door before opening it and crawling inside sideways, positioning his head just past the radio at the center of the dash. "I'm glad you contacted Blackie. We weren't sure if you had made a change on your own or if an enemy had done something," he explained away as he began to take the radio out, chatting randomly about what he was doing as he did it.

It was a rather surreal experience, not unlike when Ratchet insisted on making his repairs a learning experience by detailing everything he was doing and why. Only this time it wasn't to teach him anything, in all likelihood. More like how a creator handled a frightened sparkling by explaining what was going on.

"If you look up the news logs, there are a lot of bad things that happen in the city," Jake continued.

Wheeljack took advantage of the silence 'forced' on him by the removal of the radio to test his other communication systems. They had installed a wireless hookup of some sort for diagnostic use, and he used that to go through the news logs as suggested. He'd already been through them frequently, but it wouldn't do to ignore a suggestion like that.

The lean kat continued to chat away, explaining what he was doing as he went, so clearly at ease with working on sentient machines that it made Wheeljack wonder if Blackie was the first or if there were others. Perhaps not sparked, but still sentient.

It was less than a breem later when Jake began to put the radio back in, causing Wheeljack to note that it wasn't linked to the primitive vocalizer.

"I don't suppose you think of yourself as a he or she yet?" Jake asked.

Wheeljack made a few brief, experimental squawking sounds to test out the new vocalizer. His own was _much_ more sophisticated, of course, but if it hadn't been he'd have had to turn in his toolkit.

"A he, I think," he said, in something almost identical to Blackie's voice. "I sound more like the males who come here than this, when I'm thinking to myself."

"I'll work on a mod so you sound like a tom then," Jake said with a wry smile as he sat up and shifted to the passenger side where he was most comfortable. "For now, Blackie's spare is what I have. So, any questions?"

"Are there any others like us?" He asked Jake. "And did you want me to put the shocks back how they were before I woke up?" He added, remembering that from the conversation about things that had given him away.

Jake chuckled. "No, the shocks are a good improvement. Feel free to make other improvements, just make sure you tell us and they don't interfere with your job. I wasn't sure with Blackie, but I'm pretty sure now that you aren't unique. I don't know who any of the others are or how many, but it seems unlikely they don't exist."

_'There's at least one more that he doesn't know about then,'_ Wheeljack thought to himself.

"I think I understand, sir," he said respectfully. "Should I be careful about talking when Chance is around?"

The smaller of the two kats chuckled in genuine amusement. "Nah, the sooner he comes to term with you being a person the better off we'll all be. Blackie saw him threw the worst of his 'but _I'm_ the one in control' issues. He'll be grumpy for a while, and I don't advise taking control from him if there's much of a choice, but he'll settle down."

"Not going to be a problem," Wheeljack promised. "I know not to fight whoever's behind the wheel without a good reason. Too many things to override. I suppose I should have asked before, but is it a problem if I use your computer system to learn about what's going on? I used it to pick up the language a while ago, so I could understand what people were saying."

"Just don't go getting anything that has security on it," Jake said easily, his bio-indicators still relaxed. "The last thing we need is to draw attention. I'll never let them take you or Blackie, but I'd rather not go into permanent hiding over it," he turned more serious. "If you really want to find out, ask me or Blackie first. She knows how to hack and not get caught, and I have legal access to much of it."

"Yes sir," Wheeljack said easily. "Do you mind if I ask about the connections near my winching mechanisms? I can feel that there's something that's supposed to go in there, but I'm not sure what."

"You can ask anything you want," Jake encouraged him. "While your main job is a tow truck, I also fitted you to be converted to a suitable vehicle to go out with us as the SWAT Kats. The connections are for weapons, armor and gadgets."

"I see. I can't see action that much, since I haven't been out since I woke up. Are the SWAT Kats part of the Enforcers SWAT unit?"

Jake actually snorted. "Hardly. We're doing this on our own. Feral just looks the other way because he needs us. He doesn't have the equipment or understanding to do what we do."

"I understand. Were you doing something with Chance when Blackie called you? I could let you get back to it," he offered as innocently as could be.

"He'd appreciate it, I'm sure," Jake chuckled and slid from the seat to his feet. "I left him pretty hot and bothered."

"I'm sure I'll be able to talk with Blackie about any other questions I have," Wheeljack assured him. "You go enjoy yourself, and thank you for the vocalizer."

"Sure thing," Jake patted his hood as he walked around the truck to go back into the main building and upstairs to where his lover was teasing himself to keep interest up.

::He's a cool creator,:: Blackie commented on a voice channel as the kat left. ::I like your name too. I didn't know mine when I woke up.::

::I didn't either,:: he admitted, replying along her channel. ::But I've been up for a while. It came to me, and seemed to fit with all the equipment I haul most of the time. Where did yours come from? Did Jake and Chance give it to you, or did you find your own?::

::They were calling me Blackie long before I woke up, so yeah, they gave it to me. I like it though. Maybe not my first choice these days, but I still like it well enough.::

::What would you like to be called?:: He asked her curiously.

::Stormshock is my top pick,:: she almost giggled. ::It ... just feels good.::

::It seems to fit you,:: he chuckled slightly. ::So, you weren't intentionally woken up either?::

::Thanks,:: she gave a harmonic hum that was unlike the Cybertronian one of emotional pleasure, but context put it as the same. ::I was more intentional that you were, but I was never designed to be _this_ self-aware. Jake built a super-advanced military AI into the original Turbokat that he kept and improved with each rebuild. At some point I went from AI to what he calls a DS, a Digital Sentience. I can download into any system advanced enough to support my processing. I _hate_ doing it and it hurts like hell, but it's saved me a couple times when we've had to sacrifice my frame.::

::You don't have any hardware that you have to stay with?:: He asked her, trying to keep his curiosity sounding normal, instead of as completely excited as he was at the prospects she was raising. ::I feel something near my engine that's... _me_, I guess is all I can describe it as.::

There was a long silence, long enough that Wheeljack worried he may have offended her with the question, before the line became active again.

::No, nothing like that,:: she said, but as old and well-trained in interrogation as Wheeljack was, he knew without a doubt she was lying. What he didn't know was why, though he was willing to hazard a guess it was a combination of a non-secure comm line and not being sure about him.

::Must be nice not to have to worry about it. That's why I was worried about getting taken apart,:: he admitted, only half-lying. ::I wasn't sure if it might be damaged when they were disassembling me, and I don't know what that'd do to me. I hope I didn't offend you by asking about it,:: he added in an apologetic tone.

::I guess,:: she didn't sound that convinced. ::Maybe in the same way it's nice to not have to really worry about combat.::

_'You have _no_ idea, sweetie,'_ Wheeljack thought to himself. _'Wish you weren't about to find out how bad it can get.'_

::I suppose,:: he agreed. ::Do you enjoy what you do?::

::It's what I was _made_ for,:: she did sound honestly confused this time. ::What else would I be?::

::Chance and Jake don't seem to like what they do most of the time very much,:: he pointed out, by way of explanation. ::It seems to be common with kats, from how many of them complain about their work around me.::

::Well, yes,:: she consented thoughtfully. ::The guys _hate_ that they aren't Enforcers anymore, that they have to do such demeaning work to eat. They're built for combat like I am. It's what we're for. Are you unhappy being a tow truck?::

::I haven't really had the time to think about it, I suppose,:: he mused. ::Haven't really thought about it. It just sounded like you weren't fond of the combat, when you mentioned that I must be glad not to be seeing it much.::

There was a pause.

::Urr, I was being sarcastic.::

::Sorry,:: he said in an embarrassed tone. ::Still learning to recognize that. I have plenty of practice with Chance, and a little with Jake, but not much with you.::

::I'm still working it out too,:: she admitted with a weak chuckle. ::I know how to talk to Jake, but not anyone else.::

::Well, maybe we can practice with each other,:: he suggested. ::The other people around here aren't really the best choices, if we're supposed to keep what we are secrets.::

::I'm game,:: her grin audible across the comm line. ::Talking to Jake is good and all, but there's so much ... well, _different_. Oh, and if you ever find to find out your own capabilities, ask to be take out with your upgrades. You're no jet, but you're _fast_ for a truck.::

::And a lot sturdier than most of them, I hope,:: he chuckled. ::I don't know, you manage to get in trouble pretty often when you go out to play, at least from the last month,:: he teased. ::At least none of them have been as bad as that first one. At least I don't think so.::

::I've had far worse months. Crashing and burning into the bay as a distraction tops that list,:: she paused with a shudder for the memory. ::None of us knew if I'd still be _me_ when I was rebuilt, or even if there'd be enough of me left to rebuild. It wasn't fun at all.::

::I'm sure it wasn't,:: he said sympathetically. ::How often does that sort of thing happen to you?::

::Intentional sacrifice I've done once and the guys did twice before I woke up. I lost one frame in combat and they lost two others before I woke. We don't have a safe job. They get hurt more often than I do.::

::Well, they _are_ a lot easier to break,:: he agreed. ::Ever badly?::

::Yeah,:: she responded after a fractional pause, one that the organics were unlikely to be able to notice but felt _long_ to him, and very full of pain. ::Not as often as they did as Enforcers, but far too often.::

And if the Decepticons arrived, it would only be more often. Wheeljack made a mental note to make sure that Ratchet was available as soon as possible; he had a feeling that he'd be needed to bring the local medical tech up to snuff pretty quickly.

::Sorry, didn't mean to make you hurt. You worry about them, don't you?::

::They're my team, my unit ... Jake created me,:: she struggled to explain what she often made a point to cover with bluster the same way her pilot did. ::I need them ... fuel, maintenance, the hanger. Even if the Enforcers would take me in, I doubt I'd become more than a lab rat as they tried to duplicate Jake's work.::

::I'm sure that wouldn't happen,:: Wheeljack tried to reassure her, picking up on the traces of fear in her mental voice. ::Jake would make sure you were taken care of by somebody who knew what they were doing.::

::He ... made plans,:: she consented. ::Not sure what. You'll probably be included by next patrol if you weren't already. He thinks about that stuff too much.::

::Why don't we talk about something more pleasant?:: He suggested. ::Like what you like most about flying, and the area?::

The responding growl was all excitement, a release of tension as she shifted moods as quickly as any Sparkling Seekerling. 


	5. Introductions

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: None  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Jake brings Wheeljack to visit Professor Hackle and Cybertron.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
><em>'text'<em> thought  
>"text" organic languages<br>~text~ bond/hardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter  
>Special Ops Wheeljack snagged from fanfiction .nets/6823615/1/Not_the_Usual_Suspects by Jarakrisafis fanfiction .net/u/1267280/Jarakrisafis

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 5: Introductions<strong>

* * *

><p>"Who is this Professor Hackle that we're going to meet?" Wheeljack asked Jake as the two of them drove through Megakat City. Chance was out at a club, and Jake had decided that it made for a good night to go and 'ask' Professor Hackle about his own impressions of the new development. The warehouse district where the Professor had his laboratory wasn't the best part of town, but at least it was reasonably clean and well kept in this area.<p>

"He's a brilliant inventor, even smarter than I am and a good friend," Jake began easily, only pretending to drive to give Wheeljack some practice at driving himself. "A bit eccentric, but a good kat."

"Didn't he build the Metallikats though?" Wheeljack asked warily. "That's what the files said. And those giant robots that almost tore Pumadyne apart."

"He did built both, but he wasn't really responsible for what either got up to," Jake explained. "The Metallikats were criminals long before their minds were downloaded into those bodies and the giant robots were just that ... robots. They did what those at their controls directed. The Metallikats that time. He's a good kat with terrible luck."

"Better than Dr. Greenbox's, at least," Wheeljack mused. "Jake? Would it be all right if I brought up something Blackie told me that she's not really comfortable telling the two of you about?"

"As long as she didn't ask you not to," he nodded, turning serious. "She takes giving your word, her word, promises and oaths, very seriously. It's important to honor them."

"She didn't, and I don't _think_ It's anything that serious," Wheeljack reassured him. "It's just that, while she does like her name well enough, she told me that 'Blackie' isn't what she'd really prefer to be called. She just didn't have any other name in mind right when she woke up, unlike me," he explained.

"Oh," he murmured, stiffening slightly in surprise. "Does she have one now?" he asked softly.

"She said that her top pick would be Stormshock. She's not offended, Jake, I don't think," he offered. "I hope I didn't say anything wrong?"

"No, not at all," Jake assured him with a soft smile. "Stormshock," he purred softly. "Nice name. Suits her, really."

"That's what I thought," Wheeljack agreed. "I think she just didn't want to seem ungrateful for giving her a name in the first place. Is this the place?" He asked, pulling up in front of the address.

"Yap," Jake grinned and hopped out to knock on the door next to the warehouse-sized one. Almost immediately the door opened, revealing a chunky robot on triangular treads. "Hi Cybertron. Is the doc in?"

Wheeljack's engine sputtered unexpectedly at the mention of the robot's name. The robot nodded, extending an arm to take hold of the sliding door and raise it to allow Jake to come in.

"Welcome, welcome Jake," the elderly kat inside said in his noticeable accent, coming out leaning heavily on his cane. "It's good to see you for something _other_ than picking up the pieces of one of my projects," he smiled warmly. "Please, come in."

"Thanks, Prof," Jake grinned. "It's good to see you when it's not about trouble. I want to introduce you to our newest DS." He half turned to face the tow truck. "Come in, Wheeljack."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir," Wheeljack said politely, controlling his curiosity as he rolled into the warehouse, the door closing behind him.

"Oh my, very polite as well," Professor Hackle observed approvingly. "And you speak?"

"Ever since Jake installed a vocalizer for me," Wheeljack confirmed.

::Friend?:: Cybertron transmitted across an open comm frequency, obviously having some difficulty forming its thoughts into normal words.

::Friend,:: Wheeljack replied on the same frequency.

"Seems he woke up a couple months ago, though I only found out last week," Jake picked up. "He's very curious too and not nearly as militant as Blackie."

"It makes sense, if what they wake up like has to do with their purpose," Professor Hackle nodded, running a surprisingly firm hand lightly along Wheeljack's chassis. "How are you feeling, Wheeljack? I hope you'll tell me if I do anything that offends. You and Blackie are the only truly digital minds I've had the pleasure to meet. I've poured all my life into robotics research, and Jake trips across the biggest advancement in the field since the integrated circuit," he chuckled.

"I will," Wheeljack promised.

"I do tend to take vehicles into more extreme conditions," Jake chuckled. "I'm just glad Blackie survives losing her body."

"She _is_ remarkably resilient," Professor Hackle agreed. "Wheeljack, is there anything you would like to talk with me about?" He asked the truck, taking a seat nearby.

"Jake mentioned the Metallikats weren't always mechines. How did that happen?"

"Ach, one of my most tragic mistakes," Professor Hackle sighed. "I had developed a robotic brain matrix that was capable of simulating and containing an organic mind. I _intended_ to use the design to prolong the lives of scientists, doctors, artists - people who had dedicated themselves to improving kat-kind, and who were only being stopped from doing so by the limits of organic life. Two of my prototypes had discovered Mack and Molly on the beach, and since their bodies were fatally injured, I thought that I had ideal subjects to test my brain matrix. Unfortunately, I didn't know then who they were, or how dedicated they were to criminal lives. I've been working to try and destroy them since then, but somehow, they always seem to come back," he tsked. "I've used a version of the brain matrix for Cybertron, but my ability to imitate actual sentience, beyond just what an organic mind can learn, is limited by what can actually be programmed."

"Wow," Wheeljack's voice imitated an amazed breath. "So it won't just be Blackie and myself soon?" He paused. "Are they people, legally? Are we?"

"At the moment, I'm afraid not," Professor Hackle said apologetically. "There is some progress, but it's very slow. The Metallikats have created a great deal of animosity towards the idea, and Dr. Greenbox's 'Zed' created even more. We are making progress slowly, but the fact that Blackie cannot 'go public' makes it difficult. There aren't really any positive robotic role models, for lack of a better explanation. You may be able to change that; you're quite polite and well-spoken, and since you're not connected with SWAT it may be possible to take you public, eventually."

"Thank you," Wheeljack tried to project a smile in his voice. "It would be nice to not have to worry about being scrapped or stuck in a lab if something happened to Jake and Chance. What should I do, to be helpful?" He asked, privately beyond thrilled to be having this conversation already. It was a huge advantage to have the subject already broached by natives when they presented themselves as people. It might be better if they weren't doing so largely because of _bad_ experiences with mechanical life, but it was a start, at any rate.

"Well, as strange as this might sound, not going insane will be a big first step. Eventually, we will need to introduce you to the scientific community, and open the debate on what it takes to _be_ sentient. From there, we can begin the political process with a bit more effort than what we can get from people who think the Metallikats should be able to legally stand trial."

"Is it really that common to go insane?" Wheeljack said with worry that wasn't in the least bit faked.

"Well, Cybertron has been fine, but we have very few examples to work with. It's possible that Zed was a case where exposure to the Metallikats corrupted his programming, I suppose, but right now we've got a one-in-four failure rate, counting you as one of the four," Professor Hackle pointed out.

"You, Blackie and Cybertron are still sane. Zed went insane. We don't really count the Metallikats since they were whack jobs as kats," Jake elaborated. "Though if we're being honest, only Blackie's really been aware long enough to count for most folks. A few weeks or months isn't something most will accept as proof."

"And I'm not even entirely certain that Cybertron _is_ aware, beyond what I've built into him, which wouldn't really qualify," Hackle agreed. "What he's capable of is very advanced for most robots, but we don't have any evidence that it progresses to autonomous self-awareness. Given time, it will be easier to support, but with what we've seen so far there's a great deal of concern in the scientific community that there is something inherent to digital intelligence that breaks down easily. Probably the difficulty in developing soft restraint measures. I've been working on analyzing Zed's programming, and what Dr. Greenbox developed. I'm almost certain that the major flaw was Zed's inability to weigh the importance of his directives to learn and improve himself, and the needs of other beings, mechanical _or_ organic. That sort of judgment doesn't cope well with binary. It makes me very interested in how intelligences like you and Blackie manage to cope with it," he added.

Wheeljack was silent as he processed that, then worked out how best to ask his next questions, then waited what he figured was a reasonable amount of time for a native machine to do what his processors could so much faster.

"Judgment is ... complicated," he began cautiously. "It's a huge 'if-then' tree with probabilities of the outcomes." He pretended to struggle with explaining something he'd been programming since he was a junior engineer. "You follow the tree and you know what to do."

"Blackie's is simpler in many ways, since she was designed for combat," Jake spoke up. "I know her code inside and out."

"And you understand the differing weight of each step of the tree?" Professor Hackle asked him. "Or is that a part of it?"

Wheeljack paused as if thinking about it before answering. "It is part of the probabilities. For example, when I decided to reveal myself to Jake and Chance. When I woke up here, I listened to the news and it said many bad things about non-kats. They were enemies. So I kept my self-awareness to myself. Later I worked out that Blackie was aware like I was and treated well by our kats. I decided to keep to myself, despite the lower risk of being destroyed.

"When they began talking about giving me a complete overhaul, taking me apart, the odds changed once more. I had three primary choices. I could leave, I could talk to them or I could remain quiet. Leaving meant a lack of fuel. Remaining quiet meant pain and might kill me. So I contacted Blackie, hoping she would know how to broach the subject of my self-awareness with them in the best way."

"You didn't even consider running us over?" Jake asked with a curious tone.

"It would result in the same issue as leaving," Wheeljack replied with a verbal shrug. "I didn't want to be 'evil' like those who attacked the city."

"Why did that matter to you?" Dr. Hackle asked him. "Whether you were considered 'good' or 'evil?' And how did you understand the difference between them?"

That was actually a very good question, Wheeljack consented, one that was good to ask even if this kat had known who and what he really was. "I think I've always understood the difference. I wanted to be considered good ... maybe because of what I am?" he suggested. "I like people, having them around, even when I was pretending to be no smarter than a normal truck. So I didn't want to be like those who hurt people and drive them away."

"So you would consider it a personality element, rather than considering one of the two a preferable option?" Professor Hackle asked him, stroking his thin white beard in thought.

"Mmm, both?" Wheeljack said. "There are logical reasons to want to be good too. They're just ... secondary in my tree."

"Is there any way that it might be possible to analyze the code used for your tree?" Professor Hackle asked after a few moments to think it through. "It may be useful to help prevent future tragedies."

"Of course," Wheeljack agreed readily. Having foreseen the request, he had mock code, though working and accurate enough, ready for his entire OS and important protocols.

"Jake, are you comfortable with that?" Hackle asked him. "Perhaps we can find some common elements between his and Blackie's that Zed lacked."

"Sure," the lean tom nodded. "I'm all for avoiding another Zed."

"If you don't mind waiting, Wheeljack, we could get a start on it now," Hackle offered. "I know that it might be rather dull for you, after we have the files."

"No more dull than my regular life," he chuckled easily. "I'm used to sitting with nothing to do but browse the internet."

"Thank you," Professor Hackle nodded as he motioned Wheeljack over to his mainframe computer. "Let us know when it's time to leave; we're both prone to forgetting about the rest of the world," he chuckled.

"Of course," he agreed, watching carefully as the code he fed it was downloaded. He rolled away when he was unplugged, watching as the two kats bent over the display screen. Unlike what he'd said to them, his actual interest was in talking to Cybertron. He rolled close to the kat-like machine on treads and pinged it with a more secure comm frequency, along with an invitation to converse in the simpler to process byte-code.

::Secret talk?:: Cybertron asked him over the same line. ::Don't let them know?::

::If you prefer,:: Wheeljack offered. ::Mostly so it's easier for you to talk. I could tell their language isn't easy as for you.::

::It is very hard,:: Cybertron admitted. ::Rules keep changing. Easier when they do not do that.::

::Yes, organics are not consistent. I have more advanced linguistic protocols. Would you like them?::

::They may help,:: Cybertron consented. ::It should not hurt to try using them.::

Wheeljack loaded the simplest of his linguistic protocols with the local dialect, added the variants he'd encountered and packaged it for transmission before pinging the local with the download frequency and protocol.

Cybertron accepted the transfer, processing it and trying to load it through into his databanks.

::This could take some time to process,:: he admitted. ::But I'll do my best. Was there something you wanted to ask me about?::

::Mostly just passing time. You're the first I've gotten to talk to that doesn't live with Jake and Chance. What's your life like? Do you know how you were named? What do you do? You're not a vehicle like Blackie and I am.::

::Professor built me to help the SWAT Kats,:: Cybertron explained. ::I helped them once, and got broken, so they brought me back for repairs. I help Professor since then. I don't know how Professor decided to name me though,:: he admitted. ::How did you get your name?::

::I knew it when I became self-aware,:: he explained. ::The Turbokat, Blackie, was named by Jake. Do you like your existence here?::

::It's good. I get to help Professor. I wish I could help the SWAT Kats though, or somebody who needs it more. Do they talk about me at all?:: He asked curiously.

::Not that I've heard, but I haven't been out to them long,:: he admitted, feeling sorry for the AI. ::They have a lot to deal with to stay alive.::

::Oh, I know,:: he agreed. ::They picked me up the night with the giant mummies. That's how I got broken; they left me to protect Miss Briggs. I couldn't stop the mummies,:: he admitted, the sense that he felt he'd failed clear in his word choice.

::That ... was a while ago,:: Wheeljack murmured in sympathy as he placed the event. ::She seems to have recovered. She was by the salvage yard only two days ago.::

::I know, but I still should have succeeded in the task they gave me. I _am_ glad she was not hurt though,:: he added. ::How do you talk with them? Cars don't usually do that.::

::Jake installed a vocal unit when he found out I was self-aware,:: Wheeljack explained. ::I handle a little different since I woke up and they were going to take me apart to find out why, so I contacted Blackie to ask how best to avoid it. She said to tell them.::

::Do you think it would be possible to have one installed for me?:: Cybertron asked. ::I don't think Professor realizes how much like you I am.::

::I can't think of why not,:: Wheeljack considered it. ::Would you like me to ask now?::

::You don't have to; they don't really like being interrupted when they're on technical questions very much.::

Wheeljack turned his sensors on the pair. They were talking excitedly over the simplified, culture-specific and youthful decision tree he'd given them, but they didn't seem the kind of focused that got him a wrench to the helm or verbal abuse before something went boom.

"Jake?" He called out, loud enough to be heard clearly, quiet enough to be ignored if they wished.

"Yeah, 'Jack?" Jake asked, turning to look back at him.

"Is there something wrong?" Professor Hackle asked, turning to look at both the robot and the tow truck.

"Cybertron was wondering if he could have the grade of vocal unit you gave me," Wheeljack explained. "His processors are quite capable of handling it."

"He is?" Professor Hackle asked, clearly surprised. "I didn't know he was capable of processing language well enough to do more than understand simple orders. Well, certainly, let me see what I have around here," he said, getting up to look around. "It will be nice to have somebody else to talk to more often," he mused.

::Thank you,:: Cybertron replied gratefully.

::You're welcome,:: Wheeljack said happily. ::It's nice to be able to communicate.::

While Professor Hackle looked for parts, Jake wondered over to the pair and leaned on Wheeljack's hood. "So, you two were chatting?"

"It seemed like a good use of the time," Wheeljack said easily. "He does remember you two."

::Their voiceprints match,:: Cybertron explained easily.

"By voice," Wheeljack offered.

"So are you happy here?" Jake asked, looking directly at Cybertron.

::I am not unhappy,:: Cybertron said, clearly hedging slightly. ::I just wish I could help more.::

"I think I have something that will work here," Professor Hackle called out from the back of the shop. "One of my spare designs from when I was working on the bodies for Mack and Molly."

"Good," Jake grinned over his shoulder at him. "Want a hand installing it?"

::I'll let you answer when you have a proper voice,:: Wheeljack told him.

"Cybertron; would you please tell Wheeljack if I may power you down for the installation?" Professor Hackle asked politely. "If he doesn't mind that, it shouldn't be a problem."

::Of course he may,:: Cybertron replied quickly. ::I wouldn't want him being hurt.::

"He says it's fine. He's only concerned that you are not injured working on him," Wheeljack reported, excited to be able to make such an improvement in another machine's life, even if it wasn't a sparked machine.

"Feels good to help, doesn't it?" Jake said softly as he patted Wheeljack's doorframe where the window entered it.

"It's what I was built for," Wheeljack said honestly. "Making things better."

Cybertron turned around on his tracks to angle his back towards Professor Hackle, who powered him down and took out his screwdriver to start opening him up. The aged scientist was careful to ground everything out first.

"I wish I'd known he'd advanced past where I programmed him _that_ far," he mused as he worked.

"It's difficult to find out when they can't talk," Jake pointed out. "We got lucky with Blackie because I designed her to talk even as a simple AI. I'm not sure we would have worked it out with Wheeljack if he hadn't contacted her to tell me."

"It is a concern," Hackle admitted. "Though at least in Cybertron's case he should be capable of writing, or sending a message through to my computer. Wheeljack? Do you think he was intentionally holding back the information?"

The truck paused audibly for the kats, giving it consideration. "I think he either didn't know you would want to know or didn't realize he wasn't what you made him to be. I don't think any of us _knew_ we were different until after we did something to have a kat tell us."

"That would make sense, and I'd be much more comfortable with that," Hackle nodded. "I'd hate to think that he was intentionally trying to keep me from being aware of his abilities. That's much more the sort of thing I would expect from the Manges."

"Cybertron is very eager to please," Wheeljack pointed out. "I doubt that he'd do anything that he thought might disappoint. He still feels bad about not being able to protect Miss Briggs during the mummy attack."

Jake shifted his gaze to Wheeljack in surprise. "Seriously? He did good."

"That's what I thought, when I reviewed the files," Wheeljack agreed. "But I don't think he gets the idea of a partial success very well. He kept her from being hurt, and he did everything he could to keep her from being taken away, but since she still got taken, he thinks he screwed up."

"I never thought about that," Professor Hackle murmured as he worked. "I left him to develop his own standards, I just programmed him so that he'd feel fulfilled as an assistant robot. I suppose that I should have built in something to measure by other than perfectionism."

"I think he'd feel better if he had some ability to see shades of gray," Wheeljack agreed. "Even if it's relatively simple."

"We may put your ethical framework to the test then, if he's agreeable," Professor Hackle decided. "It's already well designed to accept such things, though it will take some reworking to handle the differences in design. It shouldn't be too difficult, just not a project for tonight."

"Of course," Wheeljack agreed readily, watching with sensors as Cybertron booted up. "Hello, Cybertron."

"Hello, Wheeljack," Cybertron replied, his vocalizer crackling a couple times as he got used to making proper words through it, rather than processing machine code. The voice was much more obviously mechanical than either Wheeljack's or Blackie's, but that was probably a matter of the 'voice' it was producing, rather than a flaw in the vocalizer itself.

"Does everything feel all right?" Professor Hackle asked as he put the last bolt back in place to hold the maintenance panel on.

"It does, Professor," Cybertron said with a nod. "Thank you, all."

"I'm doubly glad I brought Jack along, then," Jake smiled at Cybertron before turning to the Professor. "It's good to see you again, but I have to get back to the Yard. We have a patrol tonight."

"Be safe, Razor," Cybertron told him. "Oh, and I am happy here. Sometimes I wish I could still help you and T-Bone, but it is good here as well."


	6. Catching Up

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Jazz/Prowl, Mirage/Hound, Skyfire/Wheeljack, Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong  
><strong>Rating<strong>: NC-17 for mech/mech  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry, Slash, Spark, Sticky  
><strong>Summary<strong>: When Prime's ship arrives, all the mechs on Aristal gather to discuss what the exploratory cadre learned and their plans and catch up with their lovers.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
><em>'text'<em> thought  
>"text" organic languages<br>~text~ bond/hardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 6: Catching Up<strong>

* * *

><p>"Jake, Chance? After we drop off this load, would you mind if I took a run out to the desert to practice driving myself while you're working on the car?" Wheeljack pulled into the Yard, letting Chance pick the best spot to drop off what was left of the Deputy Mayor's sedan. "Or do you want me to stick around, in case the Past Master comes back and sends another ogre after Miss Briggs?"<p>

"I'm fine with you heading out," Jake agreed with a pleased purr. "Just be back before we open in the morning."

"Yeah, sure. Go have fun," Chance patted the dash, though he wasn't as comfortable with it as his partner. "Just keep an ear on the Enforcer band. The last thing we need is for you to get pulled over with no one driving."

"That is highly unlikely if I stick to the desert," Wheeljack reassured him, popping his doors open for them after pulling into the garage proper. "Please call me if anything comes up. It may take me some time to get back, but I wouldn't want to cause any trouble by not being around when you need me."

"Will do," Jake promised, giving him a pat on the hood before stepping away so the truck could back up and head out. "Have fun!" he called out with a wave.

"Should be have Blackie keep an eye on him?" Chance asked quietly when he thought Wheeljack was out of range.

Jake considered it for a moment than shook his head. "Nah, he'll be fine."

'_Thank goodness they think so,_' Wheeljack thought to himself as he drove away from the Yard, his sensors still picking up their conversation. He did _not_ want to have to try and lose Blackie before the shuttle came to pick him up. As it was, he'd be meeting it just about perfectly in time for the pickup.

Once he was outside of the city's main jurisdiction, he gunned his engine, accelerating to full speed to make it to the pickup as quickly as he could. It wouldn't do to keep Jazz waiting, after all. It was fun gunning his engine and driving flat out on open land too. When he picked up the shuttle on long-range sensors he pinged it with his ID.

::Hay, bro,:: Jazz's cheeky greeting came in reply. ::How's it hangin?::

::At the moment, just dandy. Rendezvous looks clear on my sensors; see you there? How were things going up in crime central?::

::See ya in a klik, and it's _Dullsville_. They are _so_ unimaginative and inefficient,:: Jazz grumbled. ::Ah could take over in a year and they'd never realize it.::

::Crooks usually are,:: Wheeljack chuckled. ::If it's worth anything, up here you'd probably already be running the show if you put your mind to it. Have a handful of frustrating holdouts, but otherwise be completely in charge of everything important. Thank Primus we beat the 'Cons here, or it'd be a lost cause by now.::

::At least in MKC and SB,:: Jazz agreed. ::From the reports Skyfire's been forwarding to me several other countries would fight to the last life and do some major damage while they were at it. Tusandrin, Veldt and Haven are all dangerous in their own ways.::

::The Allspark Energy that Skyfire picked up on,:: Wheeljack barely had to guess. ::Speaking of which, have you told Prime about it yet?::

::Yeah, I have,:: he sighed. ::Ah'll tell ya one thing about it. If Prime gets 'is way, we'll either keep this world or all extinguish tryin'.::

::We keep the native sparks on our side, which shouldn't be too hard, and we'll keep it,:: Wheeljack said confidently. ::Blackie flies better than any Seeker I've seen, and she's better armed too. There are other AI's that are _this_ close to making the jump too, I'm sure of it. We just need to establish a framework for them to learn how to live Autobot style, instead of Decepticon.::

::How hard with that be, with the jet? They almost all went Con for personality reasons.::

Wheeljack jumped off a dune, and transformed to his biped form mid-fall to land next to the shuttle.

**"Shouldn't be too hard, with what we know,"** he said with a grin beneath his faceplate, extending his hand towards Jazz and Hound to greet them. **"She's a defender, through and through. We make it clear that the 'Cons are the ones attacking what she's defending, and she should be on our side. We'll just want to be sure that we can make it clear we're _not_ attacking it."**

**"She fixated on anything but the city?"** Jazz asked as he greeted his old friend. **"And did you get a good sense of how old she is, or at least how mature?"**

**"The city, her organic creators, the world as a whole, and then a few specific individuals, including myself,"** Wheeljack explained. **"Though Primus only knows if that'll last once she finds out I've been stretching the truth to the breaking point. I think our best point is that the 'Cons _will_ destroy the city, and enslave every organic they can, at best. That'll go against the very core of her spark, and since I'd put her at about a stage-2 sparkling, that's going to be a strong motivator. Her chassis is a lot more advanced,"** he added. **"That's as developed as it's likely to get without Cybertronian upgrades, but I'd put her up against any Seeker you name and not be sure who'd win in a one-on-one fight."**

**"With upgrades to a proper Seeker chassis, she could take on a trine?"** Jazz suggested as a question. **"How much improvement could her creators likely do to a Cybertronian Seeker frame if given free reign with it?"**

**"The sky's the limit, pun not intended,"** Wheeljack chuckled. **"Subspacing isn't normal around here, but for Jake, it practically is. He's decades, if not centuries, ahead of the local tech curve, so who knows what he'd do if we gave him the basics of what we can already do. I'd say he's one of the most brilliant minds I've ever seen, and that includes me, Perceptor, and Skywarp. The only limit would be how much he can learn how fast. As far as Blackie's concerned... well, I'd be worried if it went to mech-to-mech combat, but we can talk that over once we're inside. We don't want to keep Optimus waiting!"**

**"No, we don't,"** Jazz chuckled as they went inside. **"Don't want to keep Skyfire waiting either,"** he winked his visor as Hound settled in the pilot's chair and finished the launch prep. **"Seriously though, it makes your job the most critical of anyone here. We _can't_ allow Jake or Blackie fall into Con hands."**

**"We'll want to make friends with Chance too, for just that reason,"** Wheeljack agreed, taking his own seat. **"They'll probably follow him where ever he goes. He's not likely to go Con, but if they have a way to corrupt organics the same way they did mechs, they might pull it off. They wouldn't necessarily have to convince him, just lure him away long enough to get their claws into him. _That's_ a scary thought. I already know what the SWAT Kats are like when they're evil, and that was without Blackie according to all records."**

Jazz nodded thoughtfully. **"Whatever it takes to prevent that, including calling me in to change their minds,"** he said grimly. **"Do you think you'll have trouble making friends with them enough to protect them?"**

**"Not if they accept that the cover was necessary to make contact,"** Wheeljack said easily. **"They trust me enough to let me out on my own, after all, and without an escort. They don't trust easily."**

Jazz relaxed fractionally. **"That's good to know,"** he said softly as they left the atmosphere and headed for the far side of the moon. **"If you need any kind of backup, don't hesitate to ask. You've got the most critical mission of anyone on-planet at this time. No one else is close to what they're doing, at least not with technology."**

**"Not on a large scale, at least. They're a few kliks away from sentient AI's, though so far we've only got Blackie and the other Spark we still can't find. Honestly, that worries me,"** he admitted.

**"I know,"** Jazz murmured. **"It seems likely that it's with someone who can hide it and is used to the idea of needing to. That's an awfully short list by what I've gathered. An Omega."**

**"And the technological know-how required makes it an even shorter list,"** Wheeljack agreed grimly. **"Hard Drive or Dark Kat. And Hard Drive would have had to capture it, not design it from scratch. Of course, it _could_ just be a government black project... but somehow, I don't think they're good enough to keep it quiet, unless they're treating Enforcer security like a blind to mask how capable they really are."**

**"Possible. You know we've done it."** Jazz nodded. **"It seems unlikely they could hide that level of deceit from us, though. No one on this mission is new at the game."**

**"No, but I haven't really been able to focus much on the infrastructure from my location,"** Wheeljack admitted. **"I'm almost _hoping_ that's the case, honestly; that I've just missed it because I've been too busy with Blackie. The alternatives are _not_ nice at all; I'd almost peg Dark Kat as more dangerous than Megatron. At least Megatron _wants_ to conquer, when it comes down to it. Dark Kat... I think he just wants to see everything pulled down to its constituent atoms, by the time all's said and done. Conquest is a stepping stone on the way to destruction."**

**"Lovely,"** Jazz grimaced. **"See if you can get enough on him to justify a mission. If we can take him out before Megs arrives, all the better."**

**"I'll see what I can do. You know how Prime is about things like that, even if there's not an organic on-world who'd complain except the target. This is one of those cases where I don't think there's much argument against it except for the fact that 'we don't do that.'"**

**"Oh I know, but it's worth a try,"** Jazz huffed an x-vent. **"Sometimes the big guy sees reason or I'd be in the brig and not still in charge,"** he chuckled lightly.

**"Docking approach,"** Hound spoke up.

**"Skyfire on board yet, or will I have a few klicks before I have to calm his processors down?"** Wheeljack teased from his seat.

**"He's on board and waiting in the bay,"** Hound grinned back at him, his rich blue optics glittering. **"With Mirage and Prowl."**

Jazz didn't even try to contain the rev and purr of his engine. **"We do have some time before the meeting. Prime knows we haven't seen them in too long."**

**"Think we should make it official that we have a little down time, just so Prowl doesn't spend the whole time worrying about what Prime will think?"** Wheeljack teased.

**"He won't once I get my claws under his armor,"** Jazz purred, a sound very much like Jake made when Chance was slowly pleasuring him. ~Hay babe. I hope your quarters have a double berth.~

~Of course they do. It was at least ten percent more efficient than two separate sets of quarters,~ Prowl replied. Only Jazz, and long familiarity, made it clear that he was teasing about the efficiency. How badly he'd missed his bonded, however, was _definitely_ obvious as the hatch opened to let the three couples get together again.

No objection was made as Jazz latched onto him, wrapping his arms around Prowl's neck to help him meet lips plates in a fierce kiss. While their height difference wasn't nearly as great as Wheeljack and Skyfire's, it was more than enough that Prowl could deny the saboteur simply by standing strait.

He didn't though; he wrapped his own arms around Jazz's frame, pulling him up for the kiss, opening the link between them.

~I've missed you,~ he admitted, fully aware that no one present was paying them any attention. Each mech was far too interested in greeting their lover to care what anyone else was doing.

~It's mutual, babe,~ Jazz moaned into the kiss, his fingers shifting to tease the sensitive joints of Prowl's sensor wings. ~Berth? Soon? I've been a car for so long I thought I might forget how to walk, much less wring moans out of you.~

~As if you'd ever forget,~ Prowl shivered under the touch. ~Follow me, I'll show you the way,~ he promised, turning to lead his lover to their quarters.

No one on the way did more than give a greeting in passing. Jazz suspected that was as do as much to how much more pleasant Prowl was to deal with after a couple good, hard overloads as any respect for the fact that Jazz was likely to rip their vocalizer out if anyone short of Prime tried to delay them.

~Don't worry, we'll be there soon,~ Prowl promised him, sending a transmission on ahead to unlatch the door. ~Then you can start telling me all about what you've wanted to do to me since you were sent out.~

Jazz shivered in anticipation, his black glass visor flashing in anticipation. He didn't wait to begin his exploration of the sensor wings flared so proudly, so invitingly, in front of him, just begging to be stroked and petted.

~Oh, I'm going to do _much_ more than tell you, lover,~ Jazz growled across their bond, not hiding a few choice fantasies of the larger mech writhing under him, under his touch, his glossa, his spark.

~Mmm ... I'll have to let Prime know that this new world doesn't keep you busy enough, apparently,~ Prowl teased as his engine purred, slipping into the room with the last of his control before making his way to their shared berth.

~As if _anything_ can keep me busy enough not to fantasize about you,~ Jazz growled his engine and lunged, neatly knocking his lover over the edge of the berth. Pedes on the floor, aft in the air and face first on the metalo mesh berth padding, Prowl moaned as dexterous fingers found their way into the complex joints of his sensor wings.

~Want some attention for yourself?~ Prowl asked him, pleasure streaming across their shared bond as he reached back to rub Jazz's side.

~Later,~ Jazz revved his engine hard against Prowl's back, sending vibrations through their chassis. He kissed as high up his bonded's back as he could, already shaking with need. Magnets suddenly turned on, flooding Prowl's sensornet with strong, directed EM pulses.

~Haven't lost your touch,~ Prowl groaned, settling in to enjoy his lover's touch, his body shuddering under skilled caresses, his sensor-wings burning pleasantly.

Jazz simply purred more and swept his hands, magnets on, along Prowl's sensitive sensor wings. With little more foreplay he opened the cover to his interface cable panel, exposing the port as well, and reached one hand down to unspool it.

~Open up, babe,~ Jazz moaned, trembling lightly as he brushed clawtips and the cable tip against the interface cover on Prowl's upper abdomen.

~I'm all yours,~ Prowl responded, the cover slipping back with a sharp click as he exposed himself to his lover. He ran light magnetic pulses of his own over his bonded's still enclosed spike, so close to the interface cable he was already working with.

A choked cry escaped Jazz and he jabbed his interface cable into Prowl's port with a bit more force than he'd intended.

~S-sorry babe,~ Jazz gasped across their bond with a wave of apology-love just before sending an opening pulse through the cable. He teased Prowl's cable before unwinding it.

~You _are_ pent up, aren't you?~ Prowl crooned, replying with his own pleasure and love as he recovered from the sudden input and slid his cable along Jazz's before plugging it into him with an answering pulse. ~Mmm ... just because I don't have myself set up for it, doesn't mean I can't make yours feel good. But first, I want to _know_ you again,~ he added, a soft hiss escaping his vents as he unlocked his spark chamber in preparation for what was coming.

~Ya always treat me so good,~ Jazz shivered as the pulses along the hardline came fast and hard, both their vents wide open and fans working hard. Almost against Jazz's will, an image-sensation flickered into Prowl's awareness. Jazz's spike, full and slick, rubbing against Prowl's plating as they merged sparks. ~Ah've been listen' and watchin' those organics mate,~ he half apologized for desires that were innate to him now, knowing his bonded did not share them. ~So primal.~

~If you don't slow down, I'll overload before you do,~ Prowl moaned. ~Want to let me get you off a few times first?~

Sharp claws dug into sensor wing joints, pressing and tugging in just the right places to briefly white out Prowl's thoughts.

~Want ... ta ... feel ya ... with meh,~ Jazz shuddered, right on the brink with his bonded. ~Want what only ... ya can give meh.~

Prowl forced himself to push Jazz back enough that he could turn around, facing his bonded as his chest plate opened up to expose his spark.

~Join me,~ he nearly purred, his engine rumbling in anticipation.

The smaller silver mech shuddered at the offer and crawled the short distance to bring their chests even. His spark was exposed and eager as he lowered his chest to his bonded's with a moan of anticipation.

~Love ya, Prowl,~ Jazz shuddered in the grip of the first wave of ecstasy as they opened up to each other fully.

Whatever Prowl might have wanted to say was lost, or at least the words for it were, as their sparks hungrily reached out for each other. There was something especially intense about the merge, something more than their time apart could explain. The emotions came first; the sure knowledge that there was nothing faked about each other's pleasure and affection. Then memories, recent ones first, then the older, moving along faster through good times and bad alike, everything that made Prowl and Jazz who they were blending together to leave only _them_.

But before that could happen, Jazz realized that there was something wrong. Prowl was resisting the merge for some reason, despite how eager he'd been for it before. It was only a nanoklick before it happened, their selves almost completely being erased in favor of the unified whole.

As he gradually became aware of himself again, their sparks still merged on the surface, Jazz delved into that resistance to find only confusion. The strength, the _extra_ that made Jazz giddy put his bonded on edge.

~We think the Allspark's down there, babe,~ he murmured. ~That's why.~

~So that's why Prime had us push the engines to get here more quickly,~ Prowl murmured, his vent fans at full speed. ~I hope I didn't ruin it for you, I just... it's _never_ been that... strong.~

~Nothing could ruin it with you,~ Jazz pushed all his love, respect and adoration along the bond with his words. When their sparks finally separated completely he scooted up Prowl's chassis for a kiss. ~Love you.~

~Love you too,~ Prowl told him honestly, their spark chambers closing. He pulled Jazz up close, kissing him tenderly as he reached down between them to stroke the panel between Jazz's legs that shielded the smaller mech's spike. ~I seem to remember that you've been getting interested in putting this to a workout, after watching the locals so much?~ He offered with a light magnetic pulse along the cables inside.

An inarticulate cry escaped Jazz as he shuddered. His claws dug into Prowl's pristine white armor as their bond flew open with _please-need-want_. Without a single thought Jazz ground his hips into the touch, desperate for more contact, for the pleasure he almost never received from the one mech he wanted it the most from. It was a bittersweet pleasure, a sharp reminder that they weren't compatible this way, that every time Prowl did this for him it was by pushing parts of his own programming down to avoid feeling disgust at the lubricants and utterly alien nature of it.

~Open up, love. Can't do this with you all packed away,~ Prowl chided the smaller mech, running a clawtip along the edge of the plate that was between his hand and his goal.

Jazz gave a small whimper and spread his legs, drawing his knees up slightly as he obeyed. His spike, a lightly ridged spiral of silver like his plating, all but shot into Prowl's waiting hand. The larger mech kissed him tenderly, starting to stroke the slick, well-lubricated length. Jazz could do little more than hold on tightly, tremble and whimper as the smoldering embers of need inside him erupted into a full blown inferno destined to consume him.

As Prowl deepened their kiss, probing his glossa into Jazz's mouth in an intentional mimicry of penetrative interfacing, he shifted them both, easily maneuvering the lighter mech to his back. He groaned into Jazz's mouth when his lover keened, arched and undulated his lithe body, seeking as much physical contact and motion as he could.

~I'm sorry I can't do more for you like this,~ Prowl murmured silently, his systems responding to the pleasure and arousal flowing so freely across their spark bond and between their interlaced EM fields. Just feeling the pleasure this touch brought his bonded was enough to make it very much worth it when he could manage. He didn't have to understand or even like what he was doing to revel in the thrill of his lover's pleasure, of having _Jazz_ writhe and moan helplessly under him, openly and willingly begging for more.

~More ... than ... enough ... Prowl,~ Jazz gasped, his vocalizer whining as he thrust up into his bonded's closed fingers, rubbing against the finely articulated plates of his palm. The charge was building fast, even faster now that Prowl was kneeling between his spread legs, leaned over him, covering him as they kissed. How well his bonded knew him, knew how to play to his fantasies and desires.

A keening scream of desperate pleasure torn from Jazz's vocalizer, his processors going into a whiteout at the bombardment of sensations and thrills of arousal, when an object was gently slid into his slick, needy valve. Each roll of his hips now thrust and pulled him along the exquisitely fine plates of Prowl's hand, then pushed and pulled the toy in and out of his quivering valve.

~I wonder how many more times I could make you crackle like that before you started getting tired of this for a while,~ Prowl murmured, running his glossa along Jazz's neck lightly as the silver minibot quivered in the aftermath of an intense overload. ~Should I try finding out, or do you want to try something different for a while?~

A whimper escaped Jazz's vocalizer as he struggled to for a thought more coherent than an emotional eruption of 'more' directed at what his bonded was currently doing to him. Even if he'd had the wits to think about it, Jazz was unlikely to care what put Prowl in the mood to indulge him now that things were truly messy. He was usually being cleaned up by now, his bonded taking his blissed out state as an opportunity to remove the icky parts of his kink.

The toy started to vibrate lightly inside of his valve, Prowl sliding down to run his glossa along the slick spike that was so hungry for more attention.

Jazz's fingers closed around Prowl's helm, trembling in the effort not to control the larger mech's movements. He helped the effort by caressing his thumbs along Prowl's chevron, but his hips and spike had very different ideas.

**"Prowl,"** a low cry escaped Jazz's vocalizer, the designation almost unrecognizable as the silver mech slid into lower Polyhexian, no longer having the processor power to translate out of his native dialect.

~Shh,~ Prowl told him across their bond, a warm wave of loving affection with it as he pleasured Jazz in a way that he almost _never_ did. For all he wasn't experienced with it, he was as skilled as he was with everything else. He swallowed Jazz's spike, running a light EM pulse along the sensitive surfaces along with the physical attention.

Fingers spasmed around his helm, pinching his sensitive chevron before Jazz managed to move his fingers. Hips rolled up, thrusting the spike into Prowl's mouth, eager for the hot, slick space. Despite his general inability to remain coherent, Jazz focused all he could on showing his lover just how intense it felt, how much he appreciated the effort, how much he didn't expect it.

~Don't hold back, lover, just enjoy it,~ Prowl instructed him, working the toy in and out of his valve as he tried to make him overload a second time.

Jazz could only give a mute nod, shifting so he could watch the impossibly erotic sight of his spike sliding in and out of his bonded's mouth. Despite the difficulty, he set his processors up to record as much high quality data on this experience, especially the visual, as possible. It could be another thousand vorns before Prowl would do this again.

A whimper escaped and Jazz thrust again, harder this time, as his systems already crackling with excess energy. His fingers tightened on Prowl's helm, guiding his lover in moving with him and against him in the way that would feel best.

Prowl's glossa left a trail through the thick, liquid lubricant, the energy sparking along Jazz's body arcing along Prowl's as well, pushing the larger mech's sensors as the power crackled along his sensor wings to discharge harmlessly.

~Ohhh, baby,~ Jazz moaned, the concept coming across more as a sensation than actual words.

As Prowl swirled his glossa around the head of Jazz's spike, taking in the oily, decidedly sweet and lightly organic taste of his ejaculate. Even as he compared it to his previous memory of the taste, he realized that the organic addition was no doubt from Jazz's extended stay on such a world. The mech was overly partial to immersing himself in whatever location he landed.

~Apparently I'm not the only one trying something unusual,~ he observed. ~What did you do?~

Jazz shuddered as his lover hummed around his spike and tried to organize his processors enough to respond.

~Local oil 'n cleanser,~ he managed to project eventually, mostly in memory-images of the oil changes and washes he's received as part of the local kingpin's car collection.

~Want to overload like this, or merge while I'm using my hand?~ Prowl asked him silently.

~Oh Primus,~ Jazz shuddered, the idea taking him well past words. The image-intent was clear though. Hand, merge, kissing.

Prowl slid up, kissing Jazz, honestly a little grateful to not have the oily flavor filling his processors anymore as his hand picked up where his glossa had left off. He opened his spark chamber again, this time resolved not to react as badly as he had before to the intensity of it.

Jazz's chest plates responded in kind, his hips rocking relentlessly into the fine metal plates of Prowl's hand. Yet as he pulled Prowl upwards into a consuming kiss there was no doubt the most erotic, the most intense part of this for the silver minibot was tasting himself on his bonded's glossa. It was a treat so rare it was dedicated to high-rez memory in every detail - overriding even the intense pleasure coursing through his sensory network and the first contact of their spark's tendrils.

* * *

><p>Optimus Prime watched his officers and scouts as they made their way to the larger briefing room on board the Ark. It was no surprise that the expedition members who had serious relationships with those on the Ark were a bit late and showing obvious signs of a hurried cleanup. Most still showed clear scrapes of each other's color nanites. It was something that even Prowl tolerated with little more than a bland look at offenders ... though this time he was the last to walk in, a very dazed looking Jazz trailing him like a turbo-puppy.<p>

**"I'm sorry to be the one to say this, especially after being one of the last ones to show up, but I'll be expected back in the next few joors,"** Wheeljack said as he took his seat. **"And if I have to leave in a rush, it's because I was contacted by the organics my cover is with and they want me back to take care of something. I can only delay for so long after that."**

**"Understood,"** Prime inclined his head. **"They are the only natives who are aware of our nature?"**

**"Actually, Prime, they aren't aware of it either. They are aware that I am sentient, along with one other native, but they think that I'm a native 'digital sentience,' as they refer to Stormshock, the native spark I was assigned to watch. They remain unaware that there are more like me, or that we are aliens to their world. Hence the more drastic cosmetic changes to my frame, compared to the others,"** he explained, indicating the winching mechanism currently riding on his arm.

**"Do you believe they would be inclined to believe that you found another digital sentience or two?"** Prowl focused on his work, though it was hard to miss the slightly smug feeling he was all but broadcasting at Jazz's light daze.

**"If they were spread out, and identified in likely areas,"** Wheeljack said after a little thought. **"The sparks they've found so far have been cases of vehicles in the heavily-tweaked custody of an unbelievably brilliant mind. There are only so many places where a new one could be discovered to have formed 'by mistake' and outside of the control of either them, or one of the people they're fighting with.**

**"But it would be believable, with a little planning, for Perceptor or myself to join you with Stormshock?"** Prowl pressed, much to the scientist's utter delight.

**"But I'm in Sayden Bay!"** Jazz objected with a definite pout.

His bonded ignored the outburst.

**"Prowl, you might be able to get away with it by posing as the Commander or Lieutenant Commander's transport. I would recommend the Lieutenant Commander's, there's a great deal less animosity involved there. Even so, you'd have to be _very_ careful. If they caught onto the substitution, you wouldn't be able to talk your way out of being disassembled as easily as I was,"** Wheeljack warned him seriously. **"Perceptor... if you were able to pose as a science experiment that's become away, it's possible. Pumadyne would be the easiest to infiltrate, but the hardest to access... actually, I think I might have an idea to get Perceptor in, if I could borrow Grapple, Trailbreaker, Ironhide, Blaster and enough resources to set up what will _look_ like a very advanced, very small private lab, built on the sly in the Badlands."**

Prowl glanced towards Prime, who nodded.

**"Send the plan when you have it ready to put into action,"** Prowl told him. **"You will have the resources you need for Perceptor. Is there anything you view as critical not to be overlooked about your territory or charges?"**

**"I'll start off here,"** Hound offered. **"The Veldt is going to be tricky. They're a wildcard, with what they can do with the ambient energy around here, and they're not crazy about high technology in a lot of it. They're also very matriarchal. We'll want Elita to handle the negotiations there, if we can swing it. They'll get along a lot better if we send a female, even if she's not in a position of actually being our leader. That actually puts _us_ in a very strong position with them. We're at least willing to work with that, but the 'Cons won't have a leg to stand on, between wanting to raze their territory for resources and no female negotiators. They'd have to have Soundwave pose as one, and that wouldn't play well at all.**

**"Tusandrin is similar, though without the matriarchy,"** Mirage offered. **"I get along with them very well, for organics. They're incredibly proud of their society and its accomplishments. They have more technology, as well as 'magic,' that they can bring to bear, so they're very much of interest. I suspect that they will handle dealing with you directly quite well, Prime. Their Khan is, to their gods, very much what you are to Primus; a direct embodiment of His will and presence. It would be seen as both a demonstration of strength, and a show of respect, for you to speak with them when we open contact. You will need to curb your 'all people should be free and equal, however,"** he locked serious golden optics on his Prime. **"While slavery has been abolished in all but name, they have a caste system not unlike the one we were created in. Speaking against it, even indirectly, will end badly. They feel culturally threatened by many of the outside city-states as it is."**

**"I understand,"** Prime nodded.

**"Saydan Bay's like home,"** Jazz purred, his optic band glowing in nostalgia. **"Run by the criminal element, run efficiently, but like Polyhex you aren't going to like it there one bit. They have too strong a WMD program to leave be. The Cons'll take it _easy_."**

**"I assume you've laid out your recommended measures in your formal reports?"** Prime asked him.

**"A'corse,"** Jazz nodded. **"Ah know my job,"** he added with a cheeky grin.

**"If I may, Optimus, it would also be a very bad place for Prowl to have to deal with, by my understanding,"** Wheeljack offered. **"Megakat City will be bad enough. Corruption runs rampant in both cities, but the difference between Sayden Bay and MKC is that Megakat City has two political leaders who are very honest and anti-corruption. Commander Feral and Deputy Mayor Briggs are both subordinates to Mayor Manx, but they effectively run the city. Manx is an ineffectual puppet mostly interested in keeping his position and the money it's brought him. The Decepticons wouldn't have that much harder a time taking over in MKC than they would in Sayden Bay, if not for the SWAT Kats and the Omegas ... and that poses our next set of wrinkles. The three people we most need to impress in that city barely tolerate the Mayor and despise the Commander. They're technically outlaws, but they've saved the city more times than anybody can count. And they're along with most of Aristal's natives in not really trusting aliens, bearing gifts or otherwise. Most of the time, aliens that show up are either trying to invade, or somebody's using their technology to try and invade. Coupled with numerous examples of autonomous mechanized life that have tried to commit murder and mayhem on a grand scale, and we're fighting an uphill battle there. It's just one that we can't afford to lose."**

**"Agreed,"** Prime rumbled with a mixture of distress and determination. **"The natives who you are with, they seem reasonably able to separate good machines from evil, and inclined to follow what's right?"**

**"Reasonably so, and I think I have ideas of how to progress past our issues with them. It will take some time and effort, but it does have the potential to get us off on the right foot. The Omega problems are significant, and even the forces that can handle them typically cause major collateral damage. If we can open our relationship with them by taking on local Omegas with minimal damage, and efforts to repair what damage is done, it'll be a good step. I'd be worried if we were fighting the 'Cons though; they might not trust that we're not actually working with them, or vice-versa, for some larger plot. If we could find a way to take down somebody like Dark Kat though, we'd get some major credit with them."** Wheeljack suggested.

**"I will take that under advisement,"** Prime nodded. **"Jazz,"** he got the saboteur's focus away from cooing and trilling at his bonded for attention. **"The additional scout placements and designations have been approved. Unless there is anything else, this meeting is concluded and you may all return to what you were doing before until it is time to leave."**

**"Noth' Prime,"** Jazz cheered and all but jumped in Prowl's lap, causing the larger mech to sputter in shock.

**"Are you _sure_ he's not part Seeker?"** Blaster joked as everybody got up to go get back to work... or, in the case of some of them, anything but.

**"No, we're not."** Prowl responded, though his tone had softened considerably at the efforts of the chirring minibot in his lap.


	7. To the Rescue

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry, Slash  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Hard Drive thinks he's scored in stealing the Enforcer's newest tank. He has no idea he's about to tick off someone older than his species.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
><em>'text'<em> thought  
>"text" organic languages<br>~text~ bond/hardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 7: To the Rescue<strong>

* * *

><p>Chance was changing Wheeljack's oil when he heard the klaxon go off.<p>

"Damn - gonna have to wait, buddy, duty calls."

"I understand, Chance, go," Wheeljack told him. "Reports say that Hard Drive has stolen the Enforcer's new prototype tank," he added after a moment to check the airwaves.

"So what else is new?" Chance muttered, running off to get changed into his flightsuit.

"New day, new variant, same old story," Jake chuckled as he suited up and both kats bolted for their jet. "Ready to fly, Stormshock?" he purred in excitement.

"Ready as always," she purred right back, her engines flaring to life as they were lifted into the tunnel.

"So, Razor, what do we know about the Commander's new toy?" T-Bone asked as he throttled up for takeoff.

"It's not the Commander's anymore," he replied cheekily before turning serious. "Relatively light armor, two missile batteries, main energy cannon, six machine guns, and it's _fast_. Anti-grav drive lets it hover about four feet off the ground and move like nobody's business."

"Psh - if tanks were meant to fly, they'd have been built with wings," Stormshock snorted.

"You're just jealous that the Enforcers finally have something that flies straight," T-Bone smirked. "C'mon, let's prove we're still the hottest thing in the air."

"As if _that_ is going to be hard," she growled, excitement and anticipation clear in her voice as the engines got a little more power, hurtling them towards the sector of town where the tank was located according to the Enforcer radio traffic.

"Let me know when we're in the thing's range, Razor," T-Bone grinned himself, settling in for the flight, anticipation of the fight to come almost as intoxicating as the trip there. There was never enough flight time as far as he was concerned. It was probably what he agreed with most with the jet. He still wasn't happy that she was now changing her name at will, but he had to admit she had pretty good taste in them. Stormshock was a good name, he had to admit it.

"Target acquired," Stormshock cheered gleefully all too soon.

"So, want to give him a chance to surrender, or see if we can just short that sucker out before he does any more harm?" T-Bone asked Razor with a grin as the Enforcers came into view, trying to keep Hard Drive from making his way out of Pumadyne's testing facilities while also avoiding being blown out of the sky.

"Fry it," Stormshock voted gleefully, angling in for the attack.

"You heard the lady," Razor chuckled, pulling up a scrambler missile. As the missile slid into the rack, the tank noticed them, bringing its main cannon to bear on the black and red jet. A massive energy blast belched forth, but T-Bone managed to dodge out of the way at the last second.

"Take him down fast, Razor. His aim's almost as fast as yours," the tabby observed.

"Happens with a direct neural link," Razor quipped, the sudden movement not throwing his targeting in the least before he fired.

"Which means Hard Drive should be getting a bad cast of electroshock therapy right about now," T-Bone grinned as the missile impacted the jet's force field. It discharged its electrical payload into it - and then fell harmlessly to the ground, not having done any apparent damage. "Crud!"

"The Enforcers are finally learning their lessons, SWAT Kats!" Hard Drive called out over the comm. "They've improved the insulation! And built in a couple other new toys too..."

Stormshock suddenly jerked in the air, her vocal unit producing a horrid shriek as she began to fall, her engines flaming out.

"Blackie?" Razor whispered, his tone a mixture of horror and terror that had nothing to do with his own predicament. He worked frantically to block the outside controller trying to take out the jet.

"Jake, drop the firewalls," Wheeljack said, an edge of panic to his voice as T-Bone hauled back on the stick to try keeping them in the air a bit longer.

"If we don't do something, we'll be a smear in no time!" T-Bone told him, trying to get the engines back online with sputtering results.

"But..." Razor began to object, only to be overridden when Stormshock gave Wheeljack full access.

::Fix,:: she whined at him, desperate, afraid, in pain and so trusting.

_'Still such a sparkling,'_ the mech thought painfully at the reaction of the sparked soldier. She'd had no choice in her function, perhaps even less than his own kind did as pre-programmed mechs.

Her 'mental landscape' had a bare minimum amount of form; just enough for him to recognize the parts of her system that were for the most critical systems. Given what he knew about what was happening, he headed for her engine control systems first, quickly satisfied that he was going the right way when he heard Hard Drive cackling. That was when Hard Drive noticed him.

::What's this?:: Hard Drive laughed. ::Another little SWAT Pet for me to play with?::

_'If you can get into _my_ systems, you deserve whatever you can get!'_ Wheeljack thought to himself.

::Why don't you come and find out?:: Wheeljack demanded, full of bravado and feigned youth, careful to keep his digital avatar matching what Hard Drive would expect - an advanced vehicle. ::Leave her alone, and come get me!::

::I think I've played with her enough,:: Hard Drive chuckled, appearing in front of Wheeljack in a flash of lightning. Wheeljack gunned his 'engine' and charged at him, his defenses down, the move completely amateur. Hard Drive returned to the surge of electrical impulses that _actually_ made up his body, and arced into Wheeljack's digital body.

Exactly what the mech had been counting on him doing.

::Get your engines going, I'll fix what I can,:: he promised Stormshock, transforming into his mechanical form with Hard Drive safely locked away between two layers of firewalls, left to 'play' with ages-old defenses honed against the likes of Soundwave and other Decepticon crackers. As Wheeljack got to work on the repairs, he tuned out the mental screaming echoing along his code; Hard Drive wouldn't be a problem for anybody for a long time, he was sure.

He felt Stormshock send a wordless impulse that came across as something between 'thanks' and affection, and her focus turned to getting her engines to fire.

Wheeljack knew when she did, the relief that flooded every particle of her processor-scape. Like a typical newly sparked warrior, her attention and mood shifted almost immediately back to excitement and eagerness to get back in the fight.

::If you're okay, I'll get out,:: he offered, starting to pull out of her processors, almost sorry for how little fight would actually be left without Hard Drive actually in the tank to operate it right now.

"Razor, we've got engines back online, how's fire control?" T-Bone asked as he pulled out of the near-crash. "You all right, Blackie?"

"Yes, I'm good," she replied, her voice steady and eager as ever. "Jackie helped kick him out."

"Jackie, huh?" T-Bone raised an eyebrow. "Well, glad you're okay. What's going on out there?" He asked, bringing the jet around for another pass.

"Tank's still but powered, Hard Drive is ... not there. Not in me either. Not sure what Jackie did, but Hard Drive is _gone_." Stormshock reported.

"That sums it up, buddy," Razor added from the back seat. "Don't know where he went, but he's not in the tank."

"Let's let the Enforcers take care of it then; I want to get Blackie back under cover and checked out to make sure there's no damage," T-Bone said, turning to head back for the Yard.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack transformed as he arrived at the excavation site in the badlands where they were building 'Dr. Greenbox's' secret laboratory. It was making good progress; well engineered, well equipped... everything to make Perceptor's arrival seem believable.<p>

That gave him a little time to sort out the other new wrinkles that were developing. He set up a secure comm frequency, then pinged Jazz in Sayden Bay.

::Wheeljack to Jazz. We have a potential complication over here on the sparkling front.::

::I'm here, what's up?:: Jazz responded immediately.

::Two things. First, I had to go into her processors to clear out a hacker. I've got him in cold storage at the moment, going to give him the usual choice between working with me or getting to run the gauntlet in a little bit. She wasn't hurt, but she saw that I can do multiple forms inside her head, and that I can handle hackers in ways she hasn't thought of yet. Since I'm supposed to be younger than her, she might start asking questions. Second, I think she's starting to get a crush on me. Probably just that I'm the only other spark she knows.::

::Then do your best to build a rapport with her, court her, do whatever you need to so she's loyal enough to you to not blab to her creators,:: Jazz replied quickly. ::A crush can be _very_ useful. She'll be less vulnerable to Seeker attention if she already has a lover.::

::I'll have to be careful about it, but I don't think we'll ever get her to the point where she won't tell them if she finds out I'm an alien,:: Wheeljack warned him. ::She's very loyal, it's one of her greatest strengths and probably why she _is_ sparked. I'll see what I can do though. It's a little awkward, courting somebody _that_ young. I assume I've got clearance to do anything Prime won't have me slagged over with our hacker friend? He could prove a handy distraction against the 'Cons.::

::You've got my clearance to do anything to the hacker, _or_ Stormshock, that you can make a cover Prime won't slag you over,:: Jazz said firmly. ::I'll back you, but you know the report has to fly when the big guy reads it.::

::I know, Jazz,:: Wheeljack reassured him. ::This isn't my first time handling this sort of thing either. Besides, we'll be ready to get Perceptor brought in pretty soon, that might actually help to take care of Stormshock without either of us having to blow our covers. I'll keep us out of trouble; this guy's good enough that I can always self-defend him until he's not a problem anymore.::

::Good,:: Jazz's tone relaxed. ::I know ya can do your job, Jack. Prime's just been on my aft lately over how different _my_ SOP are from _his_. I can't protect us from as much as I could a few vorns ago.::

::Remember who you're talking to, Jazz. You know I don't like going _that_ much farther than Prime does, that's why I went into tech. Unless Hard Drive's a lot more hard-core than his profile suggests, he'll play along. No worries then.::

A low, rueful chuckle echoed over the comm. ::I'm just glad I can still pull you for missions. Have fun with HD, and with your sparkling,:: he teased playfully. ::Time for my daily wash and wax,:: he purred in anticipation.

::Have fun taking it easy,:: Wheeljack teased, sending a closing ping before he carefully opened up one of the firewalls that was keeping Hard Drive locked inside his processors.

::Having fun in there?:: He broadcast, not manifesting himself just yet. He wanted to make sure that Hard Drive was paying attention before he did anything too showy.

::Where the hell _is_ this? _What_ are you?:: the enraged, frustrated kat snarled back.

::Where it is, is inside cyberspace. You recognize it, don't you? Or maybe you're just not used to cyberspace being able to fight back? Doesn't feel very nice, does it?:: Wheeljack asked, sending a weak EM pulse through that he knew wouldn't be _that_ harmful to the collection of electrons that was Hard Drive, but that would certainly make his point.

The kat shrieked in outrage and pain and tried to follow the path the attack came from to its source.

::You're in over your head, Hard Drive,:: Wheeljack taunted him. ::I _could_ keep you here until you lost your charge. Or shuffle you off to a spare RAM processor and wipe it clean. Or take off the firewalls that are keeping you alive, if I really wanted to. _Or_, you could try being useful to me.::

::What?:: That kat screeched, comprehension sinking in, but only just. The list of options was enough to make a part of him pause, simply for the fact that this creation knew to list them. ::What _are_ you?::

::I'm what you would call a digital sentience, only I'm several times older than your _species_, and I've been playing your game since shortly after I was sparked. The short of it is that I know all your tricks, and figured out why they don't work before the first kat-ancestors crawled out of a tidepool. Now, do you want to find out what that means I can do when I get creative? Or would you like to hear my offer?::

The energy ball that was a kat stilled as much as energy was able, _thinking_ about what was said and what he'd seen. ::Why haven't you killed all the SWAT Kat's enemies yet, if you're so advanced?::

It was question and challenge all in one.

::Because I have rules. Just like you do. Why don't you take control of one of Dark Kat's dreadnoughts and take over the world? Because you don't want to piss off somebody like Dark Kat. I don't rig his showers to spray molecular acid because I don't want to piss off my own bosses. On the other hand, you and I have _different_ rules. There are others like me, who will be coming eventually. Ones we're fighting, who'd turn this world into a smoking cinder in space without a qualm. I want you to help fight them, with the appropriate training and equipment so that you actually stand a chance against them. There _will_ be benefits, of course. Among them, not ending up in my security grid.:: He gave Hard Drive a glimpse of what that meant, in terms the kat could understand.

Infiltrating Dark Kat's lair blindfolded and naked would be more enjoyable.

::What benefits?:: Hard Drive asked quietly, even though he'd already decided he'd go along with what this DS wanted, at least until he escaped its grasp.

::Access to technology literally unlike anything you've seen before. A certain amount of money, you might consider it a retainer fee. However, you would have to refrain from criminal activities. Of course, once you have access to our computer tech, there wouldn't be any challenge left in it for you. In the jobs I have for you though... well, you'll have all the adrenaline you want from that.::

Wheeljack could feel the kat process that, easily read the chaotic thinking process as the kat worked through his options, or lack of them. Benefits and risks. Dealt with the reflexive rebellion at being tied down by a contract. The odds of getting out of the contract alive once he was free.

And came back to the one thing he couldn't calculate himself.

::What kind of jobs will you have for me?::

::System infiltration, data retrieval, the occasional cracking or viral insertion... very much what you're doing now, only against a much more skilled set of opponents. On rare occasion, you may be asked to handle system interference in an emergency... much like what you tried to do with the Turbokat, to interfere in a combat situation. But that will be a 'dire emergency' sort of situation, not something that's asked of you often.::

::All right. You have a deal. What do I call you?::

::Wheeljack. And I _will_ expect you to accept the fact that there will be monitoring software making sure you _do_ refrain from illegal activities while you're on the payroll. If they're authorized, it's one thing, but we don't want to see our toys put to extracurricular use in clearing the charitable funds for the Saydan Bay Orphans Fund out of Pumadyne mid-transfer,:: he said pointedly.

::Right, no jobs you don't sign off on,:: Hard Drive squirmed slightly at the reminder of a lucrative heist, but one he wasn't at all proud of. ::How do I contact you?::

::When you log in next, you'll receive an address. I'll change it periodically, but let you know when I do. You can contact me through that. If you ever receive a message from me that doesn't include this designation,:: he transmitted his name in Cybertronian, knowing it would translate into code in a way that would be almost impossible to generate randomly, ::you should contact me immediately, and then log off until you've been contacted in the real world. It means that one of our enemies has discovered you, and is trying to get through.::

Hard Drive took a moment to absorb all that. ::What do you look like in the real world?::

Wheeljack took the chance to manifest himself - making sure that he had a reasonable representation of the actual scale between the two of them.

::This is one of my forms. My other options are assorted vehicles, but I don't think you want to take the time to see them all before I let you back into the real world.::

::As long as this is the one I'll see if you're going to come collect me in person,:: the kat said dryly. ::What about your boss?::

::If I have to come collect you in person, I'll be letting you know by broadcast,:: Wheeljack told him. ::And if you meet either of my bosses, it'll be with me there to introduce you. And some time off. I'm going to run a scan, to see how intact you'll be when I let you go,:: he warned him, before running the low-level scan that he was sure Hard Drive could feel passing through his electronic form.

The kat shuddered, cowed as he had been for a while, but putting on a brave face that Wheeljack saw through too easily.

The mech was less than pleased with his findings. Despite keeping things tame, Hard Drive had damaged himself quite noticeably. Not life threatening, thankfully, but he would definitely need medical attention to recover quickly.

::I can repair the worst of it, but I would recommend a stay in a hospital. A likely scenario would be being lost out here, and suffering from exposure; you've been missing long enough that it would answer any questions that people in your regular life would have as well. If you're willing to wait while help arrives, I can arrange for it. They won't realize that they should put you in prison.::

The kat jerked in surprise as it hit that Wheeljack _knew_ about him without his serge suit, knew about his real life, his real name, his mate, his girlfriend ... everything.

::All right,:: Hard Drive whispered miserably.

::Don't worry. I've done this type of repair more often than you might imagine,:: Wheeljack reassured him, trying to get into his field-medic mindset again as he set to work fixing the damage he'd done.


	8. Two of a Kind

**Fandom:** Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author:<strong> gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> None  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Codes:<strong> Crossover  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Stormshock catches Wheeljack when he's out driving, and she has some uncomfortable questions.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
>~text~ bondhardlink connection talk.  
>"text" translated organic.<br>::text:: comm chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 8: Two of a Kind<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>"Wheeljack, we've got incoming air traffic,"<strong> Bluestreak called out as Wheeljack climbed out of the nearly completed laboratory.

**"Probably Stormshock; she was asking where I was earlier, but I didn't know she was planning a visit. Get inside, tell the others to keep quiet,"** Wheeljack ordered him, transforming into his tow truck alt and waiting for Bluestreak to be under cover before he spun his wheels to kick dust and sand over the entrance, just as the roar of the Turbokat's engines came over the horizon.

::Having fun?:: she called out to him on a relatively open comm line when she was still just a black dot in the sky.

::Always,:: he called back cheerfully. ::Sure we should both be out from the Yard at the same time?:: He asked her.

::I can be back before I'm needed if anything happens,:: she assured him easily, now clearly a black jet in the sky. ::I wanted to talk away from the guys.::

::Is there something wrong? Would you like me to find a better place for you to land?:: He added, broadcasting coordinates he knew would be more level for her. He'd picked this out with the express purpose of not being a good spot for her to land in, though she _could_ do it.

::Not wrong, and thanks,:: she said before going silent and changing trajectory for the new location. She remained silent until they were both on the ground.

Though she was oblivious to its existence, Wheeljack got a blast of information the moment her EM field brushed against his. Agitation, uncertainty, something that might be arousal, distress. Despite what she'd said, something was _wrong_.

::You can tell me about it,:: he offered, with what was meant to be a soothing EM pulse of his own.

Her EM field fidgeted and flickered, and he was sure if she was able she'd be pacing and twitching. ::Where ... how'd you learn to do that? With Hard Drive.::

::What part of it?:: He asked her. ::The body?::

::That too,:: she pushed forward, her unease rising sharply. ::Catching him. Fixing me. _Knowing_ what happened to me. _I_ didn't know!::

He cringed inwardly; he'd known from the start that something like this would probably happen. Chance and Jake were too good, and had taught Blackie too well, for him to get away without being noticed. His close calls had been too easy ... this would teach him to go straight into infiltration after vorns in the lab.

::I need you to let me explain everything _before_ you freak out, please,:: he said cautiously. ::You're right that I'm hiding something, but I'm not here to harm any of you. Quite the contrary.::

::Okay,:: she said warily, her engines cycling up to pre-ignition.

::I'm an advanced scout for a group of refugees from a dying world,:: he explained. ::A civil war that's lasted millions of your local years has nearly destroyed our home, and if we can't find somewhere with the right conditions we're going to go extinct, no matter how the war turns out. I was supposed to find out if it was safe for digital sentiences - sparked life, as we call it - around here. The fact that you _were_ alive... well, that made trying to stay near you the logical approach. I knew what was happening with Hard Drive because I've seen those types of attacks in the War, and helped to stop them before.::

_'Also helped to perform them, but one bombshell at a time,'_ he thought to himself.

::Refugees?:: She repeated, reflexively latching on to the fact that made the information more acceptable and showing the odd mixture of extreme youth and war-worn experience Wheeljack knew all too well from home. ::You're _old_, then?::

::More than you can imagine,:: he admitted. ::I've been around since _before_ the war, and I wasn't young then. But yes, refugees. We were able to pick up one the very basics of Aristal's history with aliens before we arrived ... you can understand why we've tried to be so careful?:: He asked her hopefully. ::We don't want to be lumped in with Mutilor and his kind. The Decepticons will do a good enough job of that when they arrive.::

She mulled it over, her field giving him a solid look at her thought-processes and reactions, even if not her exact thoughts.

::How long have you been here, been the Thunder Truck?:: She eventually asked.

::I took its place after Dark Kat's last attack,:: he explained. ::We were just arriving then. There are other scouts, but I can't reveal who, or where, except that there aren't any other scouts in Megakat City yet. I... _can_ give you proof of what I'm saying, but I don't know if you'd be comfortable with opening yourself up, or trust a data transfer from somebody you know has been undercover for months.::

::When will the Decepticons arrive?:: she asked, sidestepping his offer for the moment. ::Why _here_?::

::Likely within a year, two at the outset. As for why here ... at first, it would be because we had come nearby, and the planet has ample energy stores. They're keeping our homeworld alive by stealing the power and resources from every world they come across, converting it into fuel for the war machine. After they'd conducted some of the basic recon that we have, they'd realize the same thing that we have. There's some type of energy on Aristal that's almost identical to the energy that allowed us to reproduce. That makes Aristal a world that they can't pass up, and we do _not_ let the Decepticons take worlds without a fight,:: he said with the same sort of fierce, protective fire that she usually felt towards the city.

It was then that Wheeljack noted the dichotomy that was unique to those who grew up far too fast. For all the pointed questions she was asking, she _trusted_ him, even after what he's said about himself.

::When were you going to tell them?:: Stormshock asked quietly.

::About myself? That would have been some time down the line, unless something happened that I had to reveal myself to protect them, like it did with you and Hard Drive. We were planning to start intervening in battles with Omegas in the next few months, once we had a good enough grasp on what was going on to make sure we didn't shoot the wrong people. Our leader is _very_ protective towards the native lifeforms on worlds that we try to live on,:: he offered. ::Whether it be getting involved in combat or just trying to help with disasters and minimizing the collateral damage.::

She was quiet for a long time, long enough for Bluestreak to ping Wheeljack on a heavily encrypted comm.

::Everything going okay out there? She hasn't said anything in a while...::

::She's thinking,:: Wheeljack replied calmly on the same line. ::Hush.::

::How do you travel, _do_ things?:: she asked hesitantly, her field once more skittering across his in distress.

::We've developed to the point where we have multiple forms,:: he explained. ::That's how I was able to replace the Thunder Truck; I didn't look anything like it before. By the way, when it does come up, all the pieces _are_ still there and able to be reconstructed, I'll be glad to do it once I don't need the cover anymore. At any rate, my mech form is much better suited to handling things like lab work, machinery, and combat. You saw what it looks like when I took it on in your processor-space.::

Her engines fired half way through the explanation, but she held still on the ground, and powered them down after a moment.

Her field said it all to him. She _wanted_.

::Can you teach Jake to upgrade me?::

::Not without breaking my cover, and I don't know how they'd take the news,:: he pointed out. ::He _might_ be able to do it, but it involves several technologies that he's said before he can't replicate easily. Mostly the subspacing; he's built it inside of you before, but it would probably involve a _lot_ heavier use to get your body set up to transform properly.::

Disappointment flickered through her field, then the kind of cunning only the very young had warned him before she spoke.

::Could _you_ do it? I can make a story he'll believe,:: she tried to keep her intensity in check. ::Or someone who's in the system?::

::I'll have to get the okay from one of my superiors first,:: he told her after a brief time to think about it. It would be best to do before the 'Cons arrived, at the very least, but he'd need time to do it. On the other hand, it would be a lot easier to get clearance for than for showing Jake how to do it.

The problem was, as soon as he did it, Jake _would_ know how to do it, he was sure. She was too loyal to do anything else. All the same, he was _reasonably_ confident that Jazz would give him clearance to go for it, albeit grudgingly. He'd see how important it was to do this _before_ the Seekers had the chance to make the offer for her. Prowl couldn't be counted on to back his bonded, but he _could_ be counted on to see the tactical logic behind it. Between them, Wheeljack wouldn't get tossed in the pit for it.

::Ask? Please? I can deal with Jake's questions. How long will it take?:: she asked after a second to think. Her EM field was beginning to take on the resonance of Bluestreak when the young mech actually got _excited_ about something.

::I'll ask, but it will take at _least_ a week, and that's if I can take you up to a proper facility where I can get our medic to help with it,:: Wheeljack warned her. ::The conversion job isn't easy, especially since we need to develop a frame that'll handle your combat maneuvers ... a Seeker frame, we'd call it. Those are usually grown, not built or converted.:: He trailed off into thought.

::That _might_ present another option, but I don't even know if it's technologically possible, and it would probably take _far_ longer than you'd want to wait...::

::Grow one for me?:: she hoped she was following him correctly. ::You could start growing it and use that one when the conversion gets blown up. I go through frames pretty fast,:: she said, not entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing in this conversation. ::So I'd need to disappear for a couple weeks for this frame to be reformatted...:: she trailed off in her own thoughts, though she did nothing to hide them from him. ::Would it be easier to build a new frame for me and just do a transfer?::

::Given the circumstances, it probably would be,:: he agreed. ::Spark transfer isn't _that_ unusual, if we can get the brain and spark chamber out of a mech who's been critically damaged. As for growing a frame for you, I'm not even sure if it's _possible_ to grow an unsparked frame. It's never been tried before, and we've only got one mech who's capable of it, so that's _really_ not a likely solution,:: he told her. ::Building a frame would take a little bit longer, but you'd be able to be in action while it was being worked on. As for going through frames quickly, that's not going to be as big an issue once we're through with you.::

Her engine pitch changed to a rumbling purr at the thought. ::That'd be nice. Being in limbo while Jake rebuilds me or builds something new is a real drag. How long would it take to build?::

::Probably three weeks, and then a day for the transfer. You'd need some time to learn how to use your mech form properly, of course, but you should be able to control your airframe fine afterwards, and we'd load the protocols for the basics in the course of the transfer. It'll take a little longer than a normal frame, but you'll be on par with the best of the Aerialbots.::

Her field crackled with excitement as her secondary engines rumbled eagerly. ::Great. I'll work on making sure the skies stay clear that day and the cover story will hold as long as it needs to.:: She was nearly quivering in excitement. ::It'll be _so_ cool to have hands.::

::You don't need a mech frame to have friends,:: he offered, reaching out towards her lightly with his own EM field. He could feel her lack of understanding of what he was doing even though she grasped the intent behind the feeling weaving into her field.

::I didn't think I did,:: she tied to duplicate what he'd done. ::But _hands_, Wheeljack. You've got them. You know what it's like to know how useful it'd be, to _need_ them and not have them.::

::I know,:: he assured her. ::And I will contact the others ... if you want to wait, I can try getting hold of Jazz now, though I don't know if he's available. He's under cover himself in Sayden Bay, and might be a little busy.::

::It's okay, an extra day or two won't kill me,:: she assured, trying to keep her excitement under control with limited success. ::Can I maybe meet some of your friends soon? I know I can't talk about them, but it'd be cool to talk _to_ them. Jake and Chance are great, but having you around the Yard's really given me a taste of how nice it's to have my own kind to talk to.::

::Actually, we're setting up the cover to bring in one of our scientists now, so we should be able to bring him in within a day or two,:: Wheeljack told her, not wanting to reveal where the others were just yet. ::We'll be presenting him as a discovered 'secret project' of Doctor Greenbox's, a Zed prototype who didn't go crazy.::

::Really? Cool,:: her field flared with honest, youthful excitement. ::Jake'll _love_ having somebody around that he can really talk _with_ and not just too.:: She settled rather abruptly. ::I think he's lonely in the same way I am sometimes. Chance is good to him, but he doesn't really have anybody who thinks like he does.::

::I can, but that's outside of my cover,:: Wheeljack admitted. ::Perceptor won't have those issues though. I may have you help with bringing him in, when the time comes,:: he offered.

::Sure thing,:: she said eagerly, excited to make her creator happy. ::What's Perceptor like?::

::If you'd like, you can meet him,:: he told her. ::He'll be up in a couple minutes,:: he added after sending a ping through to Perceptor, and another to Jazz. Might as well get the bad news out of the way now.

::I'd love to!:: she actually squealed in excitement over the comm.

::Wha's up?:: Jazz opened a secure comm.

::What I figured was going to happen after I had to rescue Stormshock,:: Wheeljack admitted as Perceptor replied and climbed out of the lab to come up and meet them. ::I've had to come clean to her. She's agreed not to reveal everything to Razor and T-Bone, but she's also requesting that Ratchet, Skyfire and I work in building a mech body she can use. If we don't, the Seekers will,:: he pointed out. ::I haven't promised anything though.::

::You give her any kinda timeline?:: Jazz asked, serious but not upset.

::About three weeks, after I get approval. I've also said that I _do_ need approval. She's already agreed to come up with a cover for it, though I'll warn you that Jake _will_ figure out how to do it after it's happened.::

::Any sense of how long it'll take'm ta reverse engineer a frame, given it's Stormshock's?:: Jazz asked thoughtfully, his processors working on all the contingencies and odds, leaving heavily on his bonded's battle computer and assessments.

::In full, maybe a metacycle,:: Wheeljack told him. ::The basics, like the engines, armor, and ways to transform without the subspacing, not as long. The good news is that it _will_ be contained, barring his being captured alive. It's not likely; he knows how valuable the stuff in his head is.::

::We'll just have to treat him as SpecOps if captured,:: Jazz said with grim determination. ::Not that Prime can know that part, but _we_ need to. Fortunately the Cons won't be after him that way. I haven't found anything on world yet that's a real threat if we're determined. Prowl and I are on board with her upgrading. We'll deal with Prime if he balks. I'll set Ratchet on the job, but tell her it might be five weeks. They've got a lot on their plate and less than optimal resources.::

::T-Bone wouldn't take the news well, but Razor and Stormshock would probably appreciate knowing that,:: Wheeljack admitted. ::At any rate, I'll let her know. Can we spare Skyfire for it? He'll be able to help with the engineering she'll need for aerial work. I'd _want_ her in a Seeker frame, but I know we don't have that sort of time, if it's even technologically possible to get Skyfire to generate a sparkless one.::

::Yeah, she'll have to make do with a solid Aerial frame,:: Jazz agreed. ::I'll try to spare Skyfire. With Blaster on the ship, we probably can. I'll see about weaseling a few others in too. Sunny for looks. Mirage too, even if it's a remote consultation,:: he drifted off slightly in silent contemplation. ::Yeah, we'll make it good for a rush job. No way we want her thinking we gave her a second rate frame when the Seekers arrive. How's that crush thing going with her? Oh, and what does she want _most_ in the frame?::

::I'll ask her, though at the moment I think the crush is back at the 'I just want somebody like me to talk to,' stage of things. I'm introducing her to Perceptor now,:: he said, before opening his frequency with her.

::What is it you want the most in your frame?:: He asked her. ::Besides hands,:: he added.

She mulled it over briefly. ::Better armor. Can't loose performance, but it'd be nice to be able to take a couple hits without crash and burning.::

::I'll let the boss know. He's okay with it, but it might take longer than expected. We're short on people and supplies at the moment, so it'll take a while to get everything together and up to snuff.::

He relayed her message to Jazz, and then added his own commentary.

::Honestly, if we use our alloys and metals, we'll manage that. They're good here, but they don't have the resources to make a good armored fighter. They have to count on dodging way too much. Might try replicating Trailblazer's force shield too.::

::Mmm, she has the personality to make good use of it?:: Jazz asked. ::That thing _eats_ energy. He has a real time keeping fueled when we're rationed.::

::If we don't give her _something_, we'll be building her a new frame every decaorn. If we're _lucky_. And not because of risks either,:: Wheeljack said seriously. ::She needs something that can take a hit from a Seeker trine and _not_ go down in flames, because it's _going_ to happen. We've got the fuel here, Jazz, and they're used to her being a guzzler. Jets aren't that efficient here, and energon is going to _really_ improve that. I'll build one of my new conversion matrixes into the design at the first chance; she'll be able to fuel herself off the petrochems they use here without losing that much efficiency.::

::All right,:: Jazz said, though he clearly wasn't thrilled with the idea. ::Anything else she's likely to use well?.::

::She'll need to be rigged to be able to access her full armaments. I recommend subspacing the missiles in a shoulder-mount, and ... hang on,:: he said, putting together preliminary schematics on the fly. ::Here, give this to Ratchet and Skyfire, they'll figure it out.::

Jazz chuckled and added the files to his request. ::Will do, and have fun teaching her to be a mech.::

::Oh, bipedal balance is going to be _so_ much fun if the protocols don't take,:: Wheeljack agreed. ::Thanks, Jazz. At least things are going well. Signing off,:: he said, ending the conversation as Perceptor drove up to the bluff with them and transformed.

"Greetings," Perceptor said politely, getting down on a knee to be more at optic-level with the jet.

"Hi. I'm Stormshock," she struggled with just how to interact with very little experience. "You're Perceptor?" She asked, taking in the mostly red biped that, except for the head and lack of a tail, looked rather like a kat. At least in her limited experience.

"Indubitably," he nodded. "I understand that you believe I would be a suitable match to speak with this 'Jake' and make him feel more comfortable with his penchant for scientific -"

"Yes, you're right," Wheeljack chuckled. "I'll warn you, he can run at the mouth if you let him keep going. Not as bad as Blurr, but he uses a lot more syllables."

"Cool," Stormshock purred. "Jake'll _love_ you. What are your fields of study?" she asked eagerly, even knowing she wouldn't understand half of what was said. "Who's Blurr?"

"Quantum physics is my specialty, but I also work in energy conversion, technobiology, biology..."

::He studies just about everything to a level that would put your doctorates to shame,:: Wheeljack explained silently. ::And a few fields you don't even know exist yet. Short version, he's our top science officer. As for Blurr, he's one of the scouts. The working theory right now is that when he was sparked, somebody transplanted a star going supernova into his power cells, and it hasn't burned out yet. So far, nobody's come up with another viable explanation,:: he said with good-natured humor and privately grinned at the hysterical giggles he got in silent reply.

::Jake is going to _love_ him. Chance is going to _hate_ him,:: she continued to laugh while Perceptor continued to list his scientific fields. ::Mechanics in there anywhere?::

::Yeah, but it's not his first love. More necessity than a specialty. I'm the mechanic of the lab,:: Wheeljack said with real pride. ::Honestly, I _prefer_ tinkering to working undercover. I never got along well with the dirty work end of it, even if I'm good at it. If the situation were different, I'd love to be working with Jake in the lab, instead of keeping tabs on things and trying to lay the groundwork, but... well, in a year or two, maybe.::

::You know, you might not be able to tinker with your hands, but you could probably talk inventions with him. I'm no inventor, but he's used to me talking about upgrade ideas and whatnot, even when I was just an AI.:: Stormshock suggested, noting that Perceptor had _finally_ finished listing his specialties, half of which she didn't know what they actually were. ::He has a lot of education for a kat his age, but from what he's said around me most of his ability is innate.::

"Wow," she added to Perceptor, and it wasn't the least bit faked. "Jake is going to be over the moon to have you around. Especially after my upgrades. Speaking of ... what do you call your kind?"

"As a species, we are called Cybertronians after our homeworld," Perceptor told her easily, "As a faction, we are the Autobots. We generally use the term mech, or femme when appropriate, as generics."

"Most species that recognize gender figure the majority of us as males," Wheeljack added. "More feminine builds and voices aren't that common. I'm assuming you'd prefer one that fits your personality, by the way?"

He hoped she did. He'd hate to have to ping Jazz with a re-sketch because he'd assumed the wrong gender.

"I'll stick with female. I don't think T-bone would get over the shock if I turned up as a male," she snickered.

"Good, the rough schematic should work as a start," Wheeljack said easily. "I basically gave them a shopping list that I think you'll approve of, and keep your defenses up."

"Cool," she almost purred, her excitement palpable to the mechs. "What did you do with Hard Drive?"

"He shouldn't be a problem any more, but he's fine," Wheeljack reassured her. "We have an understanding about hacking, and what can happen if he gets caught at it again."

"Which means he isn't cleared to divulge any more details," Perceptor offered. "Do you object if I ask you about your early awakening? It would be fascinating to find out how it mirrors early Cybertronian awareness."

"Sure," she agreed readily. "No secrets involved in it."


	9. The Future Belongs to the Young

**Fandom:** Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author:<strong> gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Jazz/Prowl, OF kat/OM kat  
><strong>Rating:<strong> NC-17 for male/female, R for mech/mech  
><strong>Codes:<strong> Crossover, Furry, Het (kat/kat), Pegging, Slash (mech/mech), Comm-smut  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Jazz is taken out on a night's drive and it turns out more inventive than he ever expected.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> translated Cybertronian.  
>~text~ bondhardlink connection talk.  
>"text" translated organic.<br>::text:: comm chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 9: The Future Belongs to the Young<strong>

* * *

><p>Jazz kept his cover and politely allowed the none-too-kind handling of his superior engine and suspension by the young adult female he'd been given to as a coming-of-age gift. He'd originally thought this would make his job more difficult as he would be kept away from the family business. It turned out the flashy youth was the family heir and despite her tendencies to behave badly she was always there when anything of importance was going down, and ran three entire segments of the family business on her own. That one of them was the protection racket and another prostitution told Jazz all he needed to know about her willingness to do dirty work.<p>

That wasn't why they were out here though; this was a trip she made at _least_ once a week, out of her father's territory and into the turf that was run by Whitey Longtail. It was only a few square blocks, but it was the one place in the city that was perfect for what she was up to right now.

Jazz picked up the black sedan that she was looking for long before she did; as usual, it was parked pretty near the center of the neutral territory.

"I take it I should amuse myself for an hour or two, Miss?" Her bodyguard asked her evenly when she pulled over.

"Yes," she nodded, watching as the big, dark furred tom got out and made himself scarce. She knew he was going to buy a pretty little tom for the time she wanted him gone. She was more than happy to pay for it too, to get the time to herself.

A minute later, when it was clear the guard wasn't coming back, her lover slipped into the front seat with her.

"Hey, babe," her buff dark brown tabby lover purred into a kiss to her neck. "How long before you're expected back?" He asked, resting a hand on her thigh.

"Couple hours," she purred, leaning into the contact and turning to kiss him hotly, her own hands bolder than his. "Plenty of time for a little fun."

"Mmm... so, back seat already?" He asked her playfully. "Or want to warm up here for a while?" He kissed her with a passion equal to her own, almost like he was trying to draw her closer. "Unless you want to talk business first, but you know I prefer handling it later."

"Definitely later," she purred with a light giggle and extracted herself to slide smoothly into the back seat. With no shame she reached into a hidden compartment under the seat and brought out a strap on dildo and some lube. "Come back here, handsome."

As the tom moved back, eager for the sort of treatment that he was 'supposed' to be giving to her, Jazz couldn't help but chuckle mentally.

These organics were so very strange about their fixations, but he had to give them credit for creativity. Like many organic species, they were as expansive with their definitions of pleasure and how to obtain it as Cybertronians. Sometimes even more so, though Jazz wasn't about to talk about those kinds with the more strait-laced of his kind, like his bonded, or Prime.

_This_ particular flavor though... As the buff tom started moaning beneath his girlfriend, Jazz couldn't help but think back to Prowl. There was actually something remarkably similar between the two. Not in personality, of course; the tom in the back seat was, if anything, the polar opposite of Prowl. But somebody built the completely opposite direction of their partner's tastes ... that was kind of hard to escape. The big difference being, of course, that the tom enjoyed breaking the restrictions of his body a lot more than Prowl did.

It made him want to open a comm line to his bonded, or reach out through the bond, and share an overload as the lovers in his back seat reached their peak. He _wanted_, wanted more than he should be this early in a mission. He'd gone _vorns_ without being able to touch Prowl, with no more contact that the pulse within his spark that let him know Prowl was alive and not in intense pain or distress.

Maybe that Allspark energy was getting to him?

Opening a comm line wouldn't be that big a problem ... an overload wouldn't be smart, his passengers would _definitely_ notice, but he could at least get his reaction to the noises. That was another nice thing about organics; they were so very _expressive_ when they started playing around.

::Hay babe, ya free ta touch?:: Jazz purred as he pinged his bonded.

::Get stuck in traffic?:: Prowl teased him good-naturedly. ::Usually their dates start a good two breems earlier.::

::He was more paranoid than usual,:: Jazz chuckled. ::How are you wings holding up? I know how tense they get when I'm not there to sooth them every orn.::

::They're holding up quite well, thank you. And how about you? Going stir-crazy ferrying organics back and forth, or actually getting into enough trouble to keep you out of trouble?::

There was a particularly loud groan from the back seat, and Jazz could almost hear Prowl rolling his optics.

::They're already to the main event, hmm?::

::Already into it,:: Jazz purred, sending a pulse of desire across their bond. ::I miss touching you, babe. The way your engine sounds just for me. That trill you give when you're _hot_.::

::And somehow, being around the organics all the time reminds you of it?:: Prowl teased him playfully. ::I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended.::

::Flattered, babe. Definitely flattered,:: Jazz held back a shiver as the tom roared his orgasm, spilling hot fluids onto Jazz's interior. ::I think of ya whenever I get a charge going.::

::Suppose you tell me what it makes you want to do with me, and I'll tell you if I think I should be flattered or not?:: Prowl challenged him with the sound of his office's lock chiming that it was secured.

A soft whine escaped Jazz as the pair in his back seat switched positions so she was under him, the dildo still in his ass.

::Want to kiss ya, log into your systems to feel what every touch does ta ya. Push ya against your office wall and slide my hands along your wings. Your moans driving me on. What it does ta meh to hear ya moan and keen mah designation.::

Prowl didn't keen it, but he did moan it across their comm link. Jazz could picture him stroking his own wings lightly, discretely putting a pad over the security scanner in the room so he'd have the privacy he preferred.

::Go on,:: Prowl told him eventually.

::Mah glossa slides into your wing joints, teasing the wires, stroking the tubing. The tingle of building charge working on us both,:: Jazz continued, his voice trembling at the mental images he had, his accent deepening and lightening randomly. ::My hands delve into your hip-joints, working the strong cables there. Ah love how strong ya are, the frame and engine meant to take down bad guys after chasing them down.::

::Bad guys like you?:: Prowl teased him with another groan.

::Ah give ya a run for it evera time, Prowler,:: Jazz moaned. ::But I always _want_ ya ta catch me, pin me, cuff me ... have me utterly at your mercy.::

::Mmm ... we'll go further down _that_ particular road some time when you don't have anybody around to notice you overloading,:: Prowl teased. ::Now, keep going, you're _starting_ to convince me it's actually flattery.::

Jazz forcefully suppressed the shudder, wanting nothing more than to take his owner home and get some alone time in the garage.

::They inspire me to use my glossa, sliding along your armor, tasting that unique combination of oils and polish that is _Prowl_,:: he continued, turned on as much by the sounds his bonded was making as the motion and sounds inside him. ::You look so incredible in pleasure, when you finally allow me to arouse you fully. That expression, your field, just before you snap and turn around to pin me against the berth, your desk, the floor ... it's nearly enough to make me overload. Knowing _ah_ do that. That ya trust meh that much, to let go.::

::Nobody else,:: Prowl admitted with a groan. ::And when you've worked me up so much I overload while I'm trying to get you going?::

::Best feeling in th' universe,:: he nearly cried out. ::Worth more than mah own overload. Worth _everathin'_.::

He could hear the feedback on Prowl's end as that overload overwhelmed his bonded. He could _feel_ the pleasure and loss of control across their bond, even at this distance, and it was intoxicating.

::Only for you, Jazz,:: Prowl's voice crackled as he cycled back up after the forced reset. ::Only one who makes it worth it.::

::Love you, Prowl,:: Jazz whispered, once more in awe of what his bonded would do for him. ::Love you so much.::

::Love you too,:: Prowl purred, before reflexively going silent as he heard voices doing more than moaning in the back.

"Mmm ... can't _wait_ until we don't have to hide this anymore," the tom purred as he and Jazz's "owner" snuggled in the back seat.

"Soon, baby, soon," she purred in contentment. "Our fathers won't last much longer, then _we_ make the rules."

"I _still_ think we should speed things up a little bit," he rumbled. "Wouldn't be too hard, at least not with mine. Everybody knows he's going to drink himself under sooner or later, it wouldn't be _that_ hard to slip him something that'll make it sooner."

She laughed in delight and kissed him. "I love how you think, babe. You know, with the election next year, if we're both in power, we could _really_ start to make changes to this city."

"Mmm... so, maybe next week I should see about bringing a few 'special ingredients' for you to introduce your father to?" He purred, kissing her back hungrily. "And I know I certainly wouldn't mind, though we _might_ need to wait until next cycle, depending on how much trouble we have with Whitey."

"As delightful as it sounds, I should wait to make my move till after you are in charge of the Seritons," she murmured. "It'll make it seem more natural. As for Whitey, I think he'll be agreeable as long as we work with him, assure him that we aren't out to oust him."

"We'll have to take a _little_ longer then," he grumbled. "Can't trust your old man for much, but trying to take the gang out from under me would be something I'm _sure_ he's on board for."

::You're just going to let them go ahead with this?:: Prowl asked Jazz.

::I'm going to let them try,:: he said evenly. ::It's just family politics at the moment. They're both using the other, but she's using him more than he's using her.::

::So you think she's aware that, based on your reports, his plan has a 72.3% chance of failing catastrophically for him?:: Prowl asked, slipping into a tactical state of mind. ::As well as destabilizing the rest of the gang power structures?::

::I expect she has some idea, though not that it's nearly so high. This is mob land, babe. It's the nature of the society. Played right, she wins no matter how it ends for him. If he manages to take over his family, she has an ally in the other major player in the city. If not, she hasn't lost anything since she isn't playing her hand yet. It's actually a fairly smart move, for as impulsive as she is.::

::It makes tactical sense,:: Prowl agreed. There wasn't any judgment in what he said, which was almost a judgment of its own. _This_ was where things were hardest; handling his bonded when the law enforcement side of him couldn't stomach what was involved in his job. At least he seemed to recognize it this time; it wasn't long before he sent a soothing thrum along their bond.

::I'm sorry, Jazz,:: he said sincerely. ::It's why I'm not cut out for that work.::

::I know, babe. I know. I should have blocked your access to their talking. They've been planning this for a while,:: Jazz tried to sooth him. ::Not your fault. You're good at what you do because of what you are. I'm not out to change that anymore.::

::There still aren't any signs that this Commander Feral is one of MKC's corrupt officials, are there?:: Prowl asked him. ::Wheeljack's reports are sporadic with his other preparations and training.::

::Nothing any of us can find. He's as clean as brass comes. So is his likely successor, Felina Feral. A niece, but she earned her rank. Seems a lot of that clan goes into law enforcement.::

::Not uncommon, even on Cybertron,:: Prowl pointed out. ::Even for those who weren't sparked for law enforcement, it was pretty typical to go into it if your creators had been in the field. It's good to know though; I don't think I'd be able to stomach working with the Mayor or that Lieutenant Steele fellow.::

::You leave the Mayor to political types, Prime or me, babe. You'll want to deal with the one who actually runs things down there anyway. Steele ... I'm amazed no one's shot him yet.::

::That sort of waste is depressingly blaster-proof,:: Prowl pointed out. ::The Cons might end his good luck streak, but we'll just have to see what happens. At least he's out of the immediate chain of succession finally.::

::Agreed,:: Jazz said, and he really couldn't have agreed more. ::How is your end of things going?::

::It's going well,:: Prowl said easily. ::I'm narrowing in on the uncontrollable variables in the assorted tactical plans, working on minimizing them. I should be able to get Prime a full series of battle plans before I move into MKC, and a full-scale integration plan within one or two metacycles.::

::Here's hoping we have that long,:: Jazz said grimly. ::These people and this world move _fast_. Just be ready. They're worse than me.::

::I can handle organic oddities, love,:: Prowl reassured him. ::They move fast, but they haven't blown each other up yet. As long as the Cons don't arrive until we're ready, we can do this.::

::We'll do this even if they're already here,:: Jazz countered. ::I just hope you have time. The logic around here is warped.::

::Are you doubting my abilities?:: Prowl teased him lightly. ::I hope I have the time too. But you know I wouldn't leave Prime unprepared for _every_ contingency - including not having enough time to be fully prepared.::

Jazz could only laugh, grateful that the slight rocking went ignored by his passengers. ::Oh, I know it, babe. I'm _so_ looking forward to having you planetside.::


	10. Hi, Percy!

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong, Stormshock, Perceptor, Wheeljack  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13 male/male  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry, Slash (kat/kat)  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 10: Hi, Percy!<strong>

* * *

><p>"Don't suppose you've got anything planted out here for a training run, do you Razor?" T-Bone asked as they cruised over the Badlands. "It's looking pretty quiet today, might as well get something out of the flight time."<p>

"Besides the flight time?" Stormshock giggled over the radio speakers. "We can always take on the canyon course."

"Works for me," T-Bone chuckled. "You're in a good mood today," he observed as he started to bank towards the canyon.

"I've hardly been stuck inside for five days," the grin was audible. "Always puts me in a good mood to have open skies above me."

"Stormy, bank left," Razor said suddenly. "I've got something on long-range."

"Y'know Razor, I am _technically_ still the pilot," T-Bone said dryly, though he did bank towards the left. "Something moving?" He asked.

"No, an energy signature that shouldn't be there," he reported, eyes glued on the readouts that not even Stormshock understood half of.

"Think I see something metallic over that rise," T-Bone told him. "Looks like it was buried before. Not going to be an easy landing, but I can make it. Anything that indicates a hostile?"

"I'm not picking up anything but that single energy signature," Stormshock said.

"Ditto," Razor nodded from the back seat. "It looks abandoned."

"Now who'd go to the trouble of building a facility out here and then abandon it," T-Bone frowned as he brought them in for a very careful landing on the uneven surface of the badlands. "Doesn't look like Dark Kat's color scheme on the top," he observed.

"You have no idea, buddy," Razor murmured as the canopy slid back and they leapt out. "I've lost a lot of friends in places like this."

"And we've _both_ lost 'em exploring 'em," T-Bone pointed out, approaching it cautiously. "The sort of guys who build places like this don't usually want company. So ... any thoughts on how to get in? Don't know if blasting it'd be safe."

"Start with seeing if I can open the door," Razor cocked a grin at his partner and hotwired his Glovatrix into the control panel. Most of his friends had given him a code to use, and he had the codes for everyone he'd taken down.

"Greenbox," Razor spoke after a moment of code-checking as the door hissed open.

"Well, at least we know why he abandoned it then," T-Bone observed. "Getting tossed in the nuthatch'll do that. At least he wasn't so bad until Zed went nuts, probably won't have the same security. You want to go in first, or should I?" He asked Razor, shining his light into the blackness, dust from the ground already filtering into what had been a pristine sanctuary.

"Yeah, the codes are old, from back when we were talking," Razor took a careful step inside. "I'll take point."

T-Bone waited as Razor stepped inside; nothing happened, nothing blew up, so they continued in. At least there were stairs leading down. The entire facility was _cavernous_, for all that it had just been used by one tom. Like it was built for heavy machinery to access.

"What do you think he worked on down here?" The tabby asked.

"From what I know, probably some kind of precursor to Zed," Razor shivered in the memory. "But he had projects nearly as varied as mine. Could be anything."

"Something tracked?" T-Bone asked, flicking his ears as he heard something. He raised his Glovatrix warily as the sound became more audible, echoing through the lab facility.

"Definitely possible," he nodded, looking around before signaling T-bone to remain visible while he situated himself on one of the large pipes near the ceiling.

"We've got to talk about me always being the bait," T-Bone grumbled under his breath as he angled his light towards the noise. He caught a glint of metal, and then the source of the noise came into view. It looked for all the world like a giant microscope on a pair of tank tracks.

"What the Hell are you?" He asked.

"My designation is Perceptor. Who are you?" a deeply patient, cultured voice responded from the contraption.

"T-Bone," the tabby responded, surprised that it was responding to him. "You still haven't said _what_ you are," he pointed out, trying not to glance up to see if Razor was getting into position.

"I am an Autonomous Research and Development Mechenoid, or ARDM," Perceptor responded smoothly. "Whom do you work for?"

"SWAT Kats. Hold still, will you? Who was it that built you?" He asked.

"Dr. Lieter Greenbox," Perceptor lied smoothly.

"Do you know when?" T-Bone asked, trying to keep him talking. "And do you know when it is now?"

"Yes. I have internet access here," Perceptor responded. "I have been on line for five years, three months, 9 days, 14 hours, 43 minutes and 14 seconds. I was build a year, six months, 2 days and 3 hours before Zed's attack reached the news."

"So... what's your primary purpose?" T-Bone asked him. "After what happened with Zed, you can understand why I'm a little concerned."

"Of course," Perceptor reassured him. "My primary purpose is to analyze and repair. I believe I was never brought into full use because I was too large to be a practical aid in a lab scenario," he explained, somewhat apologetically. "I hope that you will not hold Zed's actions against me; I was horrified to read about the damage he had done."

T-bone cocked his head slightly as Razor radioed him.

"Why horrified?" he asked his partner's question.

"We were built to _repair_ things," Perceptor pointed out. "To improve conditions on Aristal. Zed's rampage endangered innocent organic lives, as well as leaving a sizeable swath of destruction in his wake. It was a betrayal of everything we were supposed to be built for, and to find out that my creator involved himself as well only made things worse."

T-bond nodded, hearing his partner's quiet hum of approval over their comm line.

"So what do you want to do now?" T-bone asked.

"I would like to make use of my abilities the way I was meant to," Perceptor said easily. "Though I am not sure about working with Pumadyne; they do not have the best historical results working with high-end technological advances. My primary concern is that I want to be useful, but I also want to avoid attracting the attention of Omegas the way that Zed did."

Whisper-quiet, Razor dropped to the ground right next to Perceptor.

"And the SWAT Kats?" he asked, considering the tank-like vehicle with a series of optical lenses in the 'cannon' with a critical eye and suspicious but eager mind.

The 'cannon' pivoted around, rotating the focal lenses to get a better look at the new arrival.

"I would like to be of use, and my research _has_ indicated that the SWAT Kats would be a place where I would likely be of the most use. Possibly with the Enforcers, but the risks there are nearly as high as with Pumadyne. The potential negative outcome of being captured by Hard Drive or Dark Kat outweighs the additional productive use of helping with a larger force. There is only one recorded incident of SWAT equipment being turned against civilians, and that was while it was in use in the field."

"Do you understand why we don't trust easily?" Razor asked.

"Certainly," Perceptor replied. "You have several areas of concern, the Enforcers not the least among them. The possibility that I could actually be planted by an Omega must be another one, as well as the possibility that I could inadvertently lead people to any location I was at that was actually known to the outside world." His viewing tube shifted, re-focusing on Jake's Glovatrix. "If I may be so bold, however, I would like to say that I do believe I could be of assistance to you both. It is obvious that your equipment is at the outer limits of what most other technicians would be able to handle; I could help you with maintenance, as well as possible improvements. If you would like, I could disable my networking abilities until you were comfortable reinstating them."

T-bone remained still and silent, on guard as he let Razor do his thing. Still, he spared attention to marvel at his partner's ability to interact so easily with technology when he could barely talk to customers of the kat variety.

"I will take you up on that," Razor decided, though there was a smile on his muzzle. "You'll also be going to one of my satellite workshops until I understand your systems well enough to trust there are no nasty surprises for either of us involved. Just because _you_ don't intend to betray us doesn't mean all your hardware and software will go along. I knew your creator. He was nearly as prone to security measures in his creations as I am."

"Understood," Perceptor replied easily. "I had expected that you would leave me here for a while, so a satellite workshop would be most agreeable. There is a ramp that would lead to the outside; should I meet you there?"

"I'd rather you stick around and give us the tour," Razor cracked a grin that bordered on real excitement. "You seem to have fairly free run of the place."

"I _have_ had several years to disable the internal security that I wasn't already cleared to bypass," Perceptor pointed out, rotating on his tracks. "Why don't we start with the laboratory? There were some other small projects there when I was abandoned."

"Sounds good," Razor grinned eagerly, motioning for Perceptor to show the way.


	11. Meddling Machines

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Jake Clawson/Chance Furlong, Stormshock, Wheeljack  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13 for male/male  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry, Slash (kat/kat)  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 11: Meddling Machines<strong>

* * *

><p>The next month was reasonably quiet... which, frankly, had T-Bone worried. No Omegas for this long just meant that, the next time one showed up, it would probably be a doozy.<p>

Of course, the fact that Razor wasn't along with him wasn't helping much. He didn't particularly like the idea of actually having a patrol turn into action without his partner with him. If something _did_ happen, the time to get out to the lab where he was working with Perceptor could make a critical difference.

"Picking up anything, Stormy?" T-Bone asked the jet, glancing at the radar himself.

"Nothing. Skies are clear as far as I can scan," she reported promptly. "Enforcers have plenty of calls, but all normal stuff and not _too_ many." She paused, but only briefly. "You know, we can swing by Jake's lab, drag him out for a bit of fun. He's been in there a while."

"He's _having_ fun, remember?" T-Bone pointed out. He was too; he hadn't seen Jake happier since he'd had Perceptor to talk to. Of course, he'd barely seen him, for that matter. "As long as there's nothing going on, it won't hurt to let him keep playing. How're those new fuel cells they were working on?" He asked, hoping to change the subject.

"They're _awesome_," she said with all the glee she did with most good upgrades. Still a kitten in some ways, even if she was a kitten born and bred for war, and both her kats reacted to the youthful nature. "It's all tingly and they power my systems so much better."

"Great," T-Bone grinned. "I don't suppose you have any better idea how they work than I did when Jake was explaining it, do you?" He asked her.

A rueful chuckle was the first response. "Maybe a little, because they're _in_ me, but not really. Just happy they work like they do."

"Life with Jake," the tabby chuckled lowly. "Don't ask how it works, just pray that it keeps working."

"Pretty much," she giggled at the long-standing joke. "So, you want to go see him before we head back?"

"I shouldn't," T-Bone said after a moment, shaking his head. "Risks attracting attention," he added as an explanation, hoping she'd buy it. He really should have known better by now.

"And landing at the Yard _doesn't_?" her voice was dry, amused. "Come on, you need to bug him, and let laid."

"And what would you know about _that_?" He asked her testily. Not that it wasn't _true_, but he didn't particularly need to hear it. Especially not from Stormy.

"Just what you and Jake have shown me," she replied sweetly, angling off towards the remote lab. "Which, between when you do on and in me, in the locker room, in the shower, in the Yard, in the garage and in the house, is plenty."

"I _meant_ about whether or not I 'need to get laid,'" T-Bone retorted, trying to keep the blush out of his voice. Why it was that knowing she'd been watching, or at least listening, in one them bothered him, he couldn't quite put his finger on. Somehow, it was almost like finding out that one of his nieces or nephews had walked in on him.

"Oh that. Your balls are too heavy," she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I can feel it in the seat."

T-Bone gave a sudden twist to the control yoke that she easily overrode to keep them from going into a building. It was obvious from his sputtering that she'd be in charge of the flight for a few minutes.

"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?" He demanded once he was getting out coherent words again.

"You haven't gotten off for a couple days now," she explained. "I am equipped with biometric and tactile sensors to keep track of both of you and know if a maneuver is causing problems before anyone blacks out. They have other uses too, like telling if you need to relax."

"She has a point, T-Bone," Wheeljack piped up over the comm. "You've been increasingly grumpy since Razor started spending more time at the lab with Perceptor. Even if you don't want to do anything about it, we need you to."

"My jet and my truck should not be my relationship counselors," T-Bone grumbled.

"We aren't. We're doing this out of self-preservation." Stormshock pointed out.

"Look, even if I _do_ go out there, all that'll happen is Jake'll talk for maybe five minutes before he gets back into the tech stuff with Perceptor. And those five minutes will take multiple Ph.D's that I don't have to understand!"

"So interrupt him with a kiss and drag him to the shower in cuffs," Stormshock suggested cheerfully. "You know how much he loves both."

"Maybe I'm not in the mood?" T-Bone suggested testily.

"Or maybe you need to _tell_ Jake that he's paying more time and attention to a machine than he is to you, and that it's bothering you," Wheeljack pointed out. "Perceptor could _use_ a recharge cycle about now, Jake could too, and you're going to be the one who's best at convincing him to get it."

"You two aren't going to quit, are you?" T-Bone grumbled in good nature.

"Nope," Stormshock chirped happily.

"Fine! I'll go pay him a visit," T-Bone sighed. "Where's the lab again?" He asked Stormshock, banking away from the city.

"Under Mt. McKallen," she responded easily. "City side."

"Right," he nodded, heading the opposite direction for a while before coming around low, below radar, so he could reach the lab without attracting any attention to his approach. Before too long, he was in front of the lab, the cockpit sliding back even before he'd reached for it.

"You're not going to take off until I've been in there for at _least_ an hour, are you?" He asked Stormshock.

"You're not resting with him?" she asked with real concern. "When was the last time to _slept_ with him?"

"About a night before we found Perceptor," Chance admitted. "If I can _get_ him to sleep, I might stick around," he conceded.

"Tire him out properly and he will," she purred at him.

"Lech," he shot back good-naturedly, taking off his helmet before he started in to try and find where Jake and Perceptor were working, hoping there wasn't anything too explosive ready. It turned out to be simple enough - just follow the sound of language that didn't make any sense right to the two entirely too smart for their own good individuals.

Perceptor, doing a damn fine impression of a tracked weapon, had Jake perched on top of him as they talked and Jake fiddled with something in his lap.

Perceptor didn't turn to notice him, but instead let out a low, venting noise from one of his processors, warm air filling the lab.

"Jake? It appears that Chance is here to see you, and I need to recharge and let my processors cool down for a while. I'm sure you could use a chance to recharge as well," he offered.

"Mmph?" Jake blinked, then chuckled. "Yeah, I should probably get some rest," he admitted. Hopping down, he put the doodad he'd been working on on the workbench nearby and turned to greet his partner. "So, your idea or Stormy and Jack?" He asked with a grin.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said it was mine, would you?" Chance asked him. "Let's just say they can be persuasive... did you tell Stormy to bring me out here?"

At least that would be _slightly_ better than having his jet playing marriage counselor.

Jake chuckled and draped his arms over Chance's broad shoulders. "Which I had," he stretched up for a kiss. "But I do like how they think."

"Mmm... so do I," Chance murmured, kissing him back as he wrapped his powerful arms around the cinnamon tom. "I've been missing you," he admitted. "Just haven't wanted to interrupt."

"Ah, your interruptions are usually welcome," Jake nuzzled him. "Come on, we could both use a shower and the bed. It's even in a room with a door."

"Always handy," Chance purred. "So, if I wanted you to come back to the Yard for a few nights, I might be able to talk you into it?"

Jake hesitated, pressing against the tabby as they walked to the shower room, the one true luxury of the outpost as far as Jake was concerned. "Much as I'd like to, I'm not sure I should leave Perceptor alone that long yet."

"Don't trust him yet?" Chance asked him. At least it wasn't just preferring to spend time with him. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready to hear something like that.

"To sleep, yeah. Be away for a few hours, yeah. Be away for a few days ... not yet," Jake admitted, uneasy about it. "He's been nothing but a great assistant and forthcoming, but his code ... it's _way_ beyond me."

"Well, it _was_ developed by Dr. Greenbox not that long before he went _completely_ around the bend," Chance offered. "Probably not his most organized work ever, y'know? Kinda like that guy who had the Yard before we got shipped out there, before he got canned and went psycho."

"Yeah, and unlike the military models I'm used to, he's designed for science from the ground up," Jake agreed as they stripped down. "It's a _much_ more complicated and convoluted thought tree."

"I'll bet that Zed's code was even scarier," Chance chuckled lowly, turning on the showers. "So you're not sure if there's something hidden in there that's going to turn into trouble? Or just can't predict him the same way you can the others?"

"Bit of both," Jake purred as he stepped up behind his lover and ran his fingers through the thick fur of the tabby's back. "Mostly the first. I trust him. I don't trust what might be in there."

"Why weren't you codebreaking, then?" Chance purred and pressed into the touch as the hot water began to rain down.

"Taking a break," Jake chuckled and pressed forward, rubbing against the strong body. "Brain can only take so much at once."

"Mmm... only you would think that taking a break meant tinkering with... what _was_ that, anyway?" Chance asked him, turning around to hold Jake close to him, just wanting to feel his mate after the prolonged separation.

"The targeting hardware for our missiles," Jake chuckled and nuzzled the board chest in front of him, thoroughly enjoying the contact. Sure, sometime Chance could be a little on the needy side, but he was good at reminding him what _living_ felt like.

"Only you," Chance chuckled, leaning down to kiss Jake tenderly, letting the heat grow between them.


	12. Coming Half Clean

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: None  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 12: Coming Half Clean<strong>

* * *

><p>Perceptor watched silently as Jake continued to work on following his code and thought trees. Even with the simplified, translated version he'd turned over, it was occupying Jake's attention entirely too well.<p>

He needed some way to get Jake's attention off of analyzing the quirks of his systems. It wasn't that he was worried about Jake finding out the truth. Honestly, he was more worried about Jake working himself to death trying to figure out a secret that had made Perceptor one of the most brilliant researchers of his age; the ability to make nanoklik-fast leaps of logic from the most minute piece of information. The kat was good, but tracing logic chains that had been forged over what his species would consider an evolutionary time frame was simply too much to ask.

He had an idea though; he hoped that he might be able to fill in some of the blanks with a little demonstration.

"Jake, is there anything I might be able to help with?" He asked.

"Unless you know how your coding works, not really," he murmured. "This is as complex as anything I've seen."

"It was designed so that I could inspect broken fragments of a machine and reassemble it into a functional one," Perceptor pointed out. "There is a great deal of complicated logic in there that traditional coding is ill-suited for. There are other functions as well," he offered. "I believe it may help if I showed you why I _have_ the code that you're working with now. Would you be willing to back away, so that I will have room for the conversion?" He asked politely.

"Okay," Jake gave the tank-like construct a curious look and got well out of the way.

Perceptor started moving with surprising quickness. He didn't leave his position, but all of his parts began twisting and pivoting. Hands extended from two arms that formed, his scope sliding off to the side so that a head could emerge with bright, glowing blue eyes. By the time he was done, the mechanical sounds of gears twisting into place and locking his body into a bipedal form that towered above Jake in the lab. When he knelt down, one of his hands was large enough to carry the lean tom.

"The coding you were looking at includes the routines necessary for bipedal mobility," he explained. "As well as a number of other related functions. Hands are sometimes necessary for working with larger machinery, so I was built with this form, while Zed was given his own abilities to adapt."

Jake's mouth hug open, his eyes wide as he took in the new look and replayed the sequence in his mind several times. Eventually he gathered himself and blurted out "can you do that _slowly_?"

"If you are hoping to replicate the process, I am afraid that there are several very difficult procedures involved," Perceptor warned him. "Most critically, the ability to shift the excess mechanics in and out of real-space is something that Dr. Greenbox could only do with great difficulty."

"I'm familiar with the concept," Jake was fully in designer mode now and all but unflappable, his amber eyes intense and tail flicking in excitement. "Yes, it's very difficult, but not impossible. Is the sequence in schematic in your databases?"

"Not in a format that would make any sense to you at the moment, but if I can have a moment..." Perceptor trailed off, extending a cable to the computer. The sequence loaded on in perfect schematics. "Would that be sufficient?"

"Mmm, yes," Jake purred, his mind going a mile a minute as he contemplated modifications to the Turbokat. "Omegas are going to have quite a surprise in a few months."

'They're not the only ones,'Perceptor thought to himself. "I'm not sure how well it would work for the cockpit," he offered. "Where it would be on me is rather occupied with other components at the moment. That's one of the things that would require subspacing. Did this help with making sense of the code, though?" He asked.

"Mmm? Oh, yeah." Jake said, already distracted as he looked around for paper and pencil to begin scribbling. "You weren't designed with combat in mind. Anything that would have Stormshock transform would be a case where size and mass are an asset. I don't need to subspace nearly as much, and there's already a huge chunk of space available in her bomb bay. Subspacing ... good name for it."

Perceptor mentally kicked himself; he shouldn't have said that. It was easy enough to pass off as something he didn't understand entirely himself if there wasn't a name for it. As soon as he gave it one, that at least _suggested_ that he understood it.

And it made it _quite_ clear that it _could_ be understood much better than Aristal was ready for.

Maybe he could get away with _not_ bringing that particular part up in his next report to Jazz.

Though, frankly, probably not.

* * *

><p>Chance waited in the main hanger for the Turbokat to lower from the ramp, then release her small tank-like passenger from the bomb bay.<p>

"Hi, Perceptor. Hope you like it here in chaos central."

"I am sure I will be able to adjust," Perceptor reassured him, lowering himself to the ground with a mighty, hissing vent of air to soften his impact. "Is there anything that I can help you with?" He asked politely.

"Just don't distract the brain there before I get him for a few hours of actual income-earning work," the tabby smirked as his partner jumped down. "We're _days_ behind thanks to his fixation on whatever you've been telling him."

"That means we keep ourselves entertained until I go on patrol near midnight," Stormshock snickered. "Though while they're working on cars, Wheeljack can come down and chat too."

"I'll avoid distracting him," Perceptor promised, finding a corner near Stormshock to settle down in. It would be good to see Wheeljack again. Maybe he could let him just how serious Jazz had been about slagging his lab down to make him focus.

The two kats walked off, towards the ladder that went to the surface building they used for a cover.

"Did you really show him you could transform?" Stormshock almost pounced on the subject as she rolled off the lift so Wheeljack could come down.

"It was the only way I could think of to help him with accepting the code he was looking through," Perceptor admitted quietly. "It may introduce complications with the planned upgrades."

"Why? He'll know what... oh..."

"He'll know that the work isn't his, which will beg the question of just who it _was_ performed by," Perceptor confirmed. "Especially if we introduced the planned upgrades in materials and abilities."

She grumbled wordlessly, mostly the revving and growl of secondary engines.

"What's got you grumpy?" Wheeljack's chipper voice interrupted the pair.

"I just pointed out the difficulties of her upgrades given that Jake is going to want to be performing a similar operation himself," Perceptor pointed out. ::What Jazz was so upset about.::

::Gotcha; don't worry, we've got it covered,:: Wheeljack reassured him.

"Yeah, we'll have to be careful about it, but we can make arrangements that will help out. It'll just slow things down a bit."

"Assuming you haven't come clean to him by then," Stormshock said, her processor working on contingencies on her own. "A lot is likely to happen in the next couple months."

"Yeah, it is, especially if another bad Omega attack hits," Wheeljack agreed. "We're trying to keep things under wraps, but there's only so much that we can do. Particularly as little things happen that keep shifting the arguments for continued secrecy," he admitted. "Prowl's still re-running his numbers after Perceptor's revelations."

"Which one's Prowl again?" Stormshock asked.

"Chief tactician and third in command," Wheeljack offered.

"I did not _intend_ to disrupt any of our plans," Perceptor offered defensively.

"They know," Wheeljack reassured him. "And it's not _that_ big a change, honestly. Prowl hates to admit that there isn't a perfect solution, but he was _never_ going to get the full time he wanted. This planet just doesn't allow for it."

"That is very true," Stormshock snickered. "If they don't realize it yet, they will in a couple years. Aristal moves _fast_."

"A few years is most of what he wanted, but Prime and the Omega situation simply won't allow for that," Wheeljack explained. "'Every life is worth protecting' is a hard line to take when you're trying to keep yourself a secret. As for Jazz... well, he's forgiven me for that little incident on board the prototype Nemesis, so I'm sure he'll get over you giving Jake a name for something he was already doing," he promised Perceptor.

"Do I want to know?" Perceptor asked.

"I do," Stormshock trilled, her ailerons fluttering in excitement.

"It's a good story, even if it _is_ one of the main reasons Jazz authorized me for a transfer to lab work," Wheeljack snickered. "The Decepticons were building their prototype Nemesis; interstellar, Iacon-class battle transport. A lot like the Ark, but with more guns attached and officially a much nastier security system."

::Officially?:: Perceptor interrupted silently.

::Whose paranoia and nastiness do _you_ want to bet on? Shockwave and Soundwave, or Red Alert and Jazz?:: Wheeljack observed.

::Mmm, you have a point,:: Perceptor sounded a touch amused. Officially, Shockwave and Soundwave are definitely worse. However given the freedom I know Prime and Prowl granted Red Alert and Jazz, I have to agree they have it.::

"At any rate, the Ark wasn't ready to fly yet, and we couldn't risk the 'Cons getting a colony-capable ship into the sky before we could. We knew the first thing they'd do would be to leave it there waiting for our exploratory teams to take off, shoot them down, and then head out to look for planets to strip. So Prime authorized Jazz to put together a team to go and make sure it _stayed_ grounded.

"He gathered the Wraiths once more. We had some fun with that one; my main task was to make sure that if the main charge didn't ground the ship, the rest of it was completely unusable. It's almost a pity that the charges _did_ work; I would've loved to find out what happened the first time they used the washracks after I was done rigging them to spray molecular acid instead of standard solvents."

"Oh, you are _mean_," Stormshock twitched at the thought of just what that would do. "Creative, but vicious."

"Only when they deserve it," Wheeljack said with what sounded like a bemused shrug. "Countermeasures are always most effective when there's no way to see them before they go off, and when you only have one shot you want to be sure it counts. Well, I finished up my job first, since it involved going places that weren't under heavier guard. That was all as-planned. What _wasn't_ planned was that the rest of the Wraiths were taking longer than expected, but hadn't been spotted yet. They'd planted the charges on the engines, but were busy arranging some backup charges and doing the sort of general mayhem and recon that the Wraiths were known for. The Nemesis was being prepped for takeoff though; I had to pick between setting off the charges with most of the team on board, or risk that the ship might get out of transmitter range for the detonators before they were all safe and clear. I picked setting off the charges on the engines while the ship was above the Rust Sea; everybody who was supposed to got out safely, but it was a near thing. Jazz was _not_ happy with me, especially when I pointed out that he'd have done the same thing if our positions had been switched."

"If it's what he would have done, why was it a reason to transfer you?" Stormshock asked.

"Don't get me wrong, I _wanted_ to transfer to lab work," Wheeljack explained. "I'm _good_ at the intel work, but I don't like it as much. But when Jazz has a good agent, he doesn't like letting him go so easily. I think the fact he was still sporting scorch marks on his aft helped convince him to sign off on it," he snickered, one she joined in.

"So how did you end up back in the field?"

"They needed me down here more than in the lab," he said easily. "We only have so many intel agents on board the Ark, and even fewer of them who'd be able to comprehend half of what Jake's talking about. Not that the tech is that advanced, necessarily, but following his logic takes a special sort of mind."

"The brilliant kind," Perceptor agreed. "There is a critical difference between being able to understand a technology and being able to talk to somebody who would be able to invent it from scratch."

"At least you have the advantage of knowing the tech," Stormshock chuckled. "Probably why he likes you two so much. Even the other kats in his field can't keep up with him a lot of the time. Percy's code is the first thing he's encountered that wasn't half magic that he couldn't just look at and comprehend, then improve."

"No offense, but I would be _very_ frightened if it wasn't," Perceptor chuckled softly.

"Yeah," Wheeljack chuckled grimly. "There's brilliant, and then there's dangerous."

"According to most, Jake's the second kind," Stormshock said quietly. "Some days Chance is the only thing keeping him on this side of the Omegas."

"Stormy... we should probably go silent for this conversation, but I think we need to have it," Wheeljack decided, opening a comm line between all three of them.

::How often _do_ those days come up?::

She was quiet for a while, mulling it over as she realized just how _wrong_ this could go for her creator. ::You know how he is over Percy? _Those_ are the days. He's a good kat. He really is. He just ... he can have a hard time seeing the ramifications.::

::That isn't as big a concern,:: Wheeljack admitted to private relief. ::That ... that we can still work with, around it. Help get him people who _can_ see the ramifications of what he's doing, or at least help him keep it out of the people who don't care.::

::There's a difference between the scientists who split the atom to create energy, without realizing at the time the weapon they were creating, and between somebody like Shockwave or Skywarp who actively wants to wreak havoc with his discoveries,:: Perceptor agreed.

::Or Dark Kat,:: Wheeljack added, to put things into perspective. ::If Jake's 'Omega days' are ones where he just doesn't think about what could be done with his inventions... that's more like Dr. Hackle. Good kat, just not necessarily one who stops to think about what happens if the wrong people use his work.::

::Or the technicalities between 'doing what needs doing' and 'going too far'.:: Stormshock added, since they were talking about helping and not locking him away. ::He's on the front lines, already going beyond the law ... his job, it pushes him too.::

::Stormy, were you conscious when Jake thought that he'd injured those two 'civilians'?:: Wheeljack asked her.

::Umm, I think so. He was _pissed_ in the end,:: she tried to dig that out of her memory banks. ::Upset Chance a lot too.::

::Mostly because those 'civilians' were really Dark Kat's agents, according to the log files,:: Wheeljack pointed out, bringing the files up for her. ::Jake's logs indicate that he was considering quitting SWAT entirely because he thought he'd hurt innocent people; he couldn't even take a clean shot until he'd found out Dark Kat had been playing him.::

Her engines rumbled, disturbed by the statement more than she was her creator going Omega.

Perceptor opened a private comm with Wheeljack. ::Should this reaction concern us?::

::Possibly, but I think I can handle it,:: Wheeljack reassured him.

::Stormshock, he _didn't_ quit,:: the truck pointed out firmly. ::And I imagine he's come to realize a few things since then, like how vulnerable it could make him in the end. He's not the first good warrior to have serious problems with hurting an innocent person, and he's not the first to learn that sometimes accidents happen, and that you have to live with that. It's a _very_ hard lesson to learn,:: he said with the weight of somebody who'd learned it himself.

::True,:: she responded, though less than certain. ::I never quite understood his reaction.::

::You have the advantage of being a sparked soldier,:: Wheeljack chuckled gently. ::It helps quite a bit... I don't know that you'd handle a peaceful situation well, but you're not likely to crack because of collateral damage. You'll get along well with Sideswipe and Sunny, once they get here, after we've convinced them that you're on our side.::::

The rumble of excited engines and her EM field flickering to a youthful eagerness. ::Why wouldn't they take your word for it? Peace+Aristal just doesn't happen.::

::They have a distinct bias against jets,:: Perceptor chuckled. ::They were trained Seeker-hunters; the Seekers almost entirely went to the Decepticons, so we needed to train grounded troops to be able to fight some of the best aerial combatants in the galaxy. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are among the best of them.::

::Yeah, but they'll get along with you once they get past the gut reaction,::: Wheeljack promised. ::Sideswipe, at least, and Sunny'll go along long enough for you to win him over. They'll probably just be happy to meet another sparked soldier.::

::Sparked soldiers aren't common, even after so long at war?:: she asked curiously, only to have her EM field prickle with excitement. "All right!" came the cheer when sirens went off. "Play time," she giggled, almost giddy with eagerness.

::Definitelya sparked soldier,:: Wheeljack chuckled, backing out of the way to be sure he'd be well clear of her exhaust when she took off, Jake and Chance already rushing down with not a few grumbles between them.

::Agreed,:: Perceptor said with a bemused tone.


	13. Broken Lives

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>:  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 13: Broken Lives<strong>

* * *

><p>Jake had to contain his excitement, converting his inward squeals of joy to an outward frown and growl as the latest load of scrap was dumped. It didn't fool Wheeljack, who was watching from near the building, or Perceptor, who was watching from inside the Hanger. The kat's bio-signs were off the scale. Even Stormshock knew something was up, but she didn't really care. She'd seen this dozens of times.<p>

It was Wheeljack who first saw what Jake had, and his spark nearly stopped. He focused more active sensors on the crumpled remains of ... something ... Cybertronian. A Cybertronian whose spark was still pulsing, if barely.

::Jazz, get Ratchet into med bay, _now_,:: Wheeljack transmitted. ::We might need him. Perceptor, can you pick up a decipherable ID ping?:: He focused on what Jake was up to, hoping that the kat's usual, reasonably careful methodology would hold. If it did, they might be able to wait until later for an evac, or maybe even let Jake handle the repairs.

But if he didn't see anything more than a pile of scrap, instead of something to rebuild... then, Wheeljack would have to get creative.

::Negative,:: Perceptor responded.

::Stormy, ready to take a spin with the boys, if something comes up?:: He asked her, watching Jake see the drivers off and all but dive towards the new scrap heap, tossing unrelated parts aside even as he yelled for Chance.

::He's ready along with everyone else with a lick of medical training, so's Skyfire and the twins for the evac. Who got trashed?:: Jazz asked as mechs on the ground and in space scrambled to be ready.

::With any luck, they'll be able to tell you, because Perceptor and I can't,:: Wheeljack admitted.

::Of course. What's interesting out there?:: she asked, curious and always eager to fly.

::We need emergency evac on - sweet _Primus_!:: Wheeljack swore as he saw Jake start to pry open what he recognized as the Cybertronian's spark chamber.

::Perceptor, get me the most detailed specs on that chassis you can, and beam them to Ratchet, authorize whatever parts we need to make it believable on my orders, we'll need to work _fast_,:: he said, his head shifting into 'emergency intel medic' mode as he sent a pulse through to the alarm system, quietly praying that he'd properly simulated the Deputy Mayor's alarm beacon.

He relaxed fraction when the alarm rang out and both kats, Chance half way to his partner, looked up and cursed before rushing for the building. The replacement chassis was almost half collected and the twins and some of their cohorts put to work smashing them into proper condition when Stormshock roared out of the ramp and shot towards the city.

::Perceptor, I'll need your help to stabilize him for transport; get up here and transform,:: Wheeljack ordered, transforming himself once he'd rolled out into the open and next to the nearly-scrapped Seeker. Whoever it was, he could tell that much; the remains of the chassis were definitely Seeker-grade.

That made the odds worse that he was about to save a Decepticon, but if there were any here on Aristal already, they needed to know _that_ too.

He found what was left of the emergency fuel tanks, and opened a shunt from his own reserves to make sure that there was enough there to keep him stable until Ratchet could get an energon drip hooked up.

::As soon as you've got the replacement chassis ready, get Skyfire down here to swap them out,:: Wheeljack told them. It was risky, but they needed somebody with the cargo space, and that narrowed things down quite a bit without using the even riskier shuttle.

::Will do,:: Skyfire responded, excitement lacing his voice before he turned serious. ::If you can, it'd be best if you aren't in passive sensor range when I land.::

"Oh my," Perceptor whispered as he came up on the barely recognizable and badly compacted airframe that was somehow still alive. "He will have a long recovery," he said to himself as he went to work on what he could; clamping tubes, sealing wires, turning off pain sensors.

"If I say 'oops', don't wait for the 'p' before you start running," Wheeljack warned him, sparking a welder in his hand before sealing the worst of the leaks in the fuel reserves and head. "There, that went well. I've got to get moving, or we might have a generative Skyfire on our hands. You should be safe to keep an eye on our patient; I'll go make sure that SWAT _stays_ out until Skyfire's gone." He transformed, quickly disabling the security systems so they wouldn't target Skyfire when he arrived.

::Ping me when they're gone, I'll stop our distraction then,:: he told Perceptor, taking off for the city and sending a message to Hard Drive.

::Of course,:: Perceptor agreed.

This wasn't quite what he'd been planning on using the little hacker for, but it was time for him to earn his keep.

::Hard Drive, this is Wheeljack. I need you to try hacking a Pumadyne prototype for me; if you can get away with something, you can keep whatever you swipe, but _no_ casualties, and _no_ resale to Omegas. Beyond that, take your pick of targets.::

::Um, sure thing,:: the kat was startled, but moved quickly to comply.

* * *

><p>"That went good," Stormshock was still giddy as they came in for a landing in the Yard, Hard Drive stopped and sent packing.<p>

"That went well," Razor corrected her reflexively. "Yes, it did."

Wheeljack, long since returned to his place in the garage, made a mental note to arrange for Hard Drive to receive a bonus the next time he paid him; the reports had said that he did his job well. Hadn't gotten away with it, but he _had_ still gotten away, and nobody had been hurt. Exactly as ordered, and he wasn't about to ignore that sort of effort when he knew what Hard Drive would have _wanted_ to do, normally.

"What happened?" He asked when the kats came upstairs, wanting to put on the proper show and keep Jake and Chance slightly distracted long enough for any discrepancies with the replacement chassis to take hold in their minds as what had been the situation when they left.

"Hard Drive attacked Pumadyne, we sent him packing," Chance purred, as pleased with himself as Stormshock was with herself. "It was smooth."

While Chance talked, Jake was making his way to the scrapped jet, a frown on his face. "Jack, let's get this hooked up and hauled into the workshop."

"On my way, Jake," Wheeljack said easily, rolling out, privately grateful that Perceptor was out of sight right now. He'd be entirely too nervous about their work being noticed. "Was this a Pumadyne project?" He asked. "It seems more advanced than the usual scrap that comes through here."

"Not sure," the kat admitted as he began securing the wreckage to Wheeljack's tow bar; a less than standard operation. "If not them, then it's by another black project company, or alien. We do actually get a fair amount of alien scrap around here."

"The Enforcers don't keep it for their own research?" Wheeljack asked, his confusion clear as he found the proper point to attach his winch to the wreckage.

"Nah, they don't do any research or development," Jake shook his head. "Private companies do. Which means they only get the scrap if they find out about it before it gets to me."

"Their loss is our gain," Wheeljack mused. "So, where do you want it? In the lab, or somewhere with a little more space?" He asked.

"Lab 3," he said as he climbed into the cab, though he left the driver's side empty for Wheeljack to drive himself.

"Afraid somebody's going to try coming back for it?" The truck asked, his tone one of somebody making conversation as he drove the short distance to the more secure lab facility. "Or think it's going to wake up too?"

Jake groaned as he began to think about those possibilities. "Neither. But that's one hell of a power source in it; the same one that's in Stormy, you and Percy. I've seen one go boom and it's a _big_ boom."

"Given the shape it's in, I'd be surprised if it still _had_ any power left, but that's a good reason. _And_ a good reason to make sure Dark Kat doesn't get his mitts on it; he might not need to hit the nuclear plant with a power source like that. Will you want Perceptor's help?" Wheeljack asked as he drove down the ramp into the Hanger.

"Yes, and I'd like you there too, unless Chance needs you," Jake added. "You've got a good mind for this stuff."

"Thank you," Wheeljack said proudly. "I'll keep an ear out for Chance. Perceptor should be here in a few minutes," he added, pulling into the lab.

::Perceptor; Jake would like your help out here. Remember, this is what you're supposed to be built for, and it's a jet, not a mech. Not unless Jake notices mech parts.::

::I understand,:: Perceptor replied, the nervous undertones obvious to Wheeljack. ::Has he noticed anything different yet?::

::Noticed the spark chamber; thought it was a power source, so if you can reinforce that, it'll be a good idea. He hasn't had a chance to notice too much else yet though. I think between the two of us we can rig a primitive, low-grade energon converter into it, that should keep him happy for a _long_ time. You know, like the one you rigged up back in Basic Energy Systems.::

::I did no such thing,:: Perceptor replied primly.

::Of _course_ you didn't,:: Wheeljack snickered. ::The sad thing us, I actually believe you.::

::You, however, went directly to high grade,:: Perceptor made an attempt at teasing as he made his way to meet them outside lab 3 - a place that looked much more like Vortex's workshop than anything else to the Autobots. It only lacked the energon splatters and smell of deactivation.

Wheeljack had to suppress a shudder every time he made that particular observation, but that just meant he was getting good at it. Perceptor, on the other hand, had never had quite the same occasion to become intimately familiar with the Combaticon's lab facilities.

::Of course I did, I also corrected my instructor when he screwed up. Your pick which is the reason I flunked that first class,:: Wheeljack teased back, trying to keep from thinking too much about what the lab reminded him of.

"Right in the middle, Jake?" He asked easily as the two alt-mode mechs carried their cargo inside.

"Yap," the kat said cheerfully, oblivious to how disturbed Wheeljack was. "Then we can work out just what this used to look like."

"Would you like to do it the old-fashioned way, or would you prefer that I do what I can first?" Perceptor offered politely. "Short of reactivation, of course."

Jake paused, actually working that over in his mind a few times. "Can you make schematics from scans?"

"I'd be better at reconstructing the pieces and monitoring the process; the scans aren't the best at penetrating some materials," he offered.

"Figured," Jake shook his head as he began to walk around his prize. "Then you can help and comment, but hands on it the only way I get much out of it."

"That's fine," Perceptor agreed easily.

::Sorry. It was the only thing I could think of to avoid having to give him the real schematics,:: Perceptor said silently to Wheeljack.

::It works,:: Wheeljack reassured him.

"Would you prefer if I stayed in this configuration, or would it be all right if I transformed?" Perceptor asked Jake. "I may be able to provide more assistance with hands."

"Up to you," Jake smiled at the scientist as he went back to figuring out where the power source was. "In the Hanger you aren't restricted."

"Understood," Perceptor agreed, transforming and moving closer. Seeing the two of them, it occurred to Jake that he was perfectly scaled to be able to work on the scrap that had been delivered. He filed that away once it occurred to him that Perceptor had told him he was designed to work on larger projects. A jet would be exactly the kind of thing Perceptor would have worked on.

Assuming this was a jet of some kind. It had the right mass at any rate, and a few recognizable parts.

"Looks like it hit dirt at full burn," Jake murmured to himself. "Poor thing."

"The damage _is_ more extensive than if it had simply been a high-altitude freefall," Perceptor agreed.

"Is that the power source you were talking about?" Wheeljack asked, directing a headlight onto the dead spark chamber.

"Yes," Jake frowned as he poked and prodded the egg shaped crystalline metal object almost two feet across. "It seems dead ... but it wasn't when I was looking earlier."

"It may have lost its remaining charge while you and Chance were busy," Perceptor offered. "May I? I'll be sure to prepare schematics for you," he promised, offering his huge hand. "I may be able to get it working again."

Jake nodded and easily stepped back, more than curious at Perceptor's efforts.

Neither mech could miss that his bio-indicators showed no stress at the suggestion; the kat was excited, but not the least bit defensive.

::Are you sure we should be introducing energon conversion?:: Perceptor asked Wheeljack silently.

::Low-grade, low-efficiency,:: Wheeljack agreed, sending him the basic schematics he'd need to get started with converting a spark chamber into a fuel matrix. ::We'll need to, to keep Stormy from crashing and burning with her upgrades.::

::Affirmative,:: Perceptor acknowledged, starting to work, first dissecting the unit, making a show of inspecting it as he worked over Wheeljack's schematics and his own knowledge of the systems.

"I believe this was more of a central fuel injection system, rather than a generator," Perceptor offered, lying through his teeth but making sure that it wouldn't contradict anything else that Jake would find. "The system seems built to accept fuel, and the complication of the circuitry inside would imply a heavily monitored system." He set it down for Jake to inspect as well, returning to the chassis to carefully cannibalize the rest of the parts he would need.

"Mmm, that would make sense," the kat mused, considering the egg shaped, hollow object. "Any sign of what sent fuel its way, or where it went? I'd rather avoid a fuel fire if possible."

"I think those are the parts here," Wheeljack offered.

::Good idea; we can use the actual parts for half of this now,:: he praised Perceptor.

::Thank you,:: Perceptor said, extracting some of the extra cables and fuel system.

"Agreed; I believe that the system was still active when it crashed, and likely exhausted its fuel supply. That would be why the system you're looking at is dry now," he told Jake helpfully.

The kat hummed thoughtfully, his fingers sliding along the inside of the chamber. His tail twitched, a sign of uncertainty. So were the way his ears flicked.

It was plenty of warning to Wheeljack that Jake didn't completely believe in that idea, but hadn't rejected it completely either. It was a hazard with trying to play someone who was as smart and inventive as Jake.

Once again Wheeljack wished he knew just who they'd rescued, or even exactly what. It was a flight frame, most likely, but that didn't say much. There were nearly as many types of them as there were groundframes. All he knew was that it was probably smaller than Skyfire and definitely larger than a microrobot. Which only left about 90% of fliers left.

If he had some word from Ratchet it would help, but that was going to take time, he knew.

"Do you have a different idea in mind?" Wheeljack asked him, hoping to keep the kat thinking along technical lines, rather than thinking too much about why it didn't look exactly like what he remembered. He had to keep him focused on the fact that he had a new toy, not the question of whether or not it was the same one.

"Just curiosity," Jake said absently. "Whatever this contained, it was pure energy. There's no liquid, gel or powder residue. That would explain the boom, and the crystalline metal. Though that means the engines," he glanced at the wreckage and frowned, "wherever _those_ are, have a second fuel cell to run on or they're far more advanced than anything I've even read sci-fi about. To run air engines on energy..." he drifted off, his body all but quivering just thinking about the incredible advancements that would represent.

Wheeljack was already putting together his explanation to Jazz in his head; they'd already been planning on presenting _all_ of this technology to Jake when they upgraded Stormshock, and Jazz had signed off on _that_. Besides, if he hadn't acted, then it just meant that Jake would be taking it out of a corpse, rather than out of a pile of parts that had never been active.

Perceptor brought the parts together, beginning to work on reassembling them, hooking into the computer and loading schematics as he worked. Wheeljack was more than happy to let Jake focus on that for a few minutes, before Perceptor finished.

"I believe that what we're looking at is a high-efficiency energy conversion matrix," Perceptor explained for Jake's benefit. "It takes the fuel that's been loaded, processes it down into component particles, and then converts those into the pure energy that you were referring to. The engines are in there somewhere, but I personally prefer working from the basic systems up, rather than from the outside in, when I can."

::You _did_ make sure that they knew to give us a flyer frame, right?:: Perceptor asked Wheeljack, just a little nervously.

::Of course I did,:: Wheeljack reassured him. ::I wouldn't make a mistake like that. The twins probably just worked a little more on the engines so there'd be less there that Jake could use to kick Aristal's technology ahead by thirty or forty generations.::

::Not that it is likely to stop him, any more than it would stop you,:: Perceptor half teased, though his voice remained even as he continued to work.


	14. One Misspoken Word

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Skyfire/Wheeljack  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry, Slash  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 14: One Misspoken Word<strong>

* * *

><p>Nine days of peaceful patrols and Wheeljack could anticipate to the nanoklik when Stormshock would be bored enough to ping him and start to chat about anything that came to anyone's processor. Today was no exception.<p>

::Hay Jack, when are you going to invite your boyfriend down?::

::When we can figure out a way to do it safely; you wouldn't want to meet him as-is... well, okay, _you_ might, but I don't know that I'd want you to meet him like that,:: Wheeljack chuckled lowly.

::Why?:: she was suddenly very curious. ::I thought Skyfire was nice.::

::Oh, he is,:: he said with a vocal grin. ::But there's something about Aristal that puts him in a mood the closer he gets. Not a _bad_ mood, by any means, but I don't think that _I'm_ quite ready for Skyfire in generative mode, let alone anybody else around here. Perceptor'd probably blow a circuit,:: he snickered.

::Generative mode?:: Razor's voice jointed the conversation, his tone somewhere between concerned and confused.

The only response that Wheeljack was capable of for most of the next minute sounded like a stream of static, but was actually a string of Cybertronian cursing more elaborate than anything he'd used since leaving Cybertron. Fortunately, he thought it would sound like static to the kats and Stormy.

Not that it wasn't entirely justified, as far as he was concerned! He'd _finally_ stopped asking her on a second frequency if she was sure she had the speakers turned off in the jet, and _this_ time she didn't.

He couldn't tell Jazz about this. He just didn't have the steel for it right now. He told himself that he had to see how badly this would go _before_ slagging off his boss again. On the bright side, this _would_ pretty much eliminate Prime's need to hold back during Omega attacks, if he couldn't figure out how to talk his way out of this. Maybe that would be the best way to handle it... actually report to Prime _first_, and _then_ talk to Jazz...

No, Jazz would only be _more_ slagged off if he did that. He'd have to worry about that later, for now he had to think fast.

::Heh ... sorry, Jake, didn't think that Stormy had her speakers on,:: he said, putting his best embarrassed tone into it. ::Stormy and I've been playing around with the idea of there being more of us out there, passes the time during patrol or while you guys are sleeping.::

_'Please, _please_ let Stormshock play along, and Jake buy it.'_

A small sound of relief came through the speakers, a sound one of the kats made.

On a separate line, Stormshock pinged him, whimpering apologies at her mistake the way only the very young can. He'd have to deal with that later. Right now, he had to keep the 'game' going. He sent back a gentle ping apologizing for his own outburst, and hoped that would do it for now.

::Tell me about him?:: Razor asked. ::Patrol's dull. Might as well join the game.::

Letting out a silent vent of relief of his own, Wheeljack thought about how to phrase things. He could use _some_ of the truth, he just had to be careful with how much he used.

::Well, he's an exploration shuttle from a world where machines like us are a lot more common. Been looking for somewhere they can try and settle down peacefully, but they haven't been able to find the right world yet; they'd need a world where life like us can happen, intentionally or otherwise.::

Razor hummed softly, an approving, understanding sound.

::It's cute,:: T-bone said with a chuckle, speaking to Razor. ::They grow up fast.::

::That they do,:: Razor's tone was soft. ::Who are some of the others? Surely Skyfire doesn't explore alone.::

::He has before, but there are others out there now. Some of them aerial, like him, most of them ground-based. They've got a huge colony ship, like an ark, that he's attached to. All sorts of different mechs on it; some of them doctors, some of them scientists or engineers... of course, when you've got machines for everybody around, the three kind of overlap a bit. Not as many other explorers like Skyfire, but a lot of scouts, for when they find a world. Some of them built to get along best in cities, exploring to see who might already be there that they have to get along with, and some of them built for the wilderness, so they can look for safe places to try and establish themselves without too much disruption. Places like the Badlands, where nobody's already set up, and there's plenty they could use for fuel.::

Razor gave a low whistle. ::That would be pretty cool, as long as they're social and cooperative like you.::

::Yeah, it would be,:: Wheeljack agreed. ::Of course, they're _people_, so not all of them would necessarily be the good sort, but you'd think that most of them would be. At least if, as a system, they've got scouts who'd take their time and be careful, instead of just attacking when they first show up, like Mutilor did. If you're not looking to be friendly or to cooperate with the locals, you wouldn't bother with trying to find ways to settle peacefully, you'd just show up and deliver your ultimatum.::

::Or level the place so you can build what you want of it without interference,:: Stormshock piped up. ::Seen a few of those..::

::Yeah, it kinda sucks that the friendly aliens kept clear until we'd had enough bad experiences to really not trust anybody any more,:: Razor said.

::Well, these particular aliens weren't around until Stormy and I started thinking about them, but that's another issue. Maybe Aristal's just got bad luck; it would certainly explain the Omegas,:: Wheeljack pointed out.

::Maybe,:: Razor agreed, audibly torn with the idea. ::I'd hate to think this is normal, but if it is, a lot of worlds are going to be ruled by Omegas.::

_'Kind of like Cybertron, right now. At least we've got the worst of them off-world, chasing us, right now,'_ Wheeljack thought to himself.

::One of the reasons I tend to think it's not normal. I don't know what you'd call it... maybe faith? But I just don't think that's how the universe at large would work.::

::I hope not,:: Razor said grimily. ::Or we're in for a lot of hurt when we get out there and Aristal's existence becomes obvious. As bad as the visitors have been, no one's come with a fleet or invasion force yet.::

::Didn't mean to get you thinking about that sort of thing,:: Wheeljack said apologetically.

::It's okay,:: Razor reassured him. ::It's kinda part of the job description. Like it or not, when you're the first and last line of defense you have to think about what might be coming next.::

::I understand,:: Wheeljack said easily. ::How much longer do you think you'll be out?::

::Thirty minutes, then we're taking a run through the canyon, so no talking. I need her full attention on not going splat,:: T-bone answered smoothly.

::Hay, you're better than that, and so am I,:: Stormshock objected to Razor's snicker in the background.

::I have to say that I'm siding with Stormshock on this one,:: Wheeljack snickered. ::You could probably handle the canyon run with Jake sharing the seat with you, if he didn't have any new toys to shoot back at you.::

::Has Stormy told you just how often _that_ is?:: T-bone shot back, though he was laughing too.

::Just giving him ideas for other ways to mix things up,:: Wheeljack teased.

::Hardly a new one,:: Razor teased. ::Even if my favorite is in space.::

T-bond and Stormshock groaned in unison.

::As if you objected when it was happening,:: Razor teased his partner.

::The profits from the recording helped too,:: Stormshock teased them both.

::I think I'll sign off before Jake decides to go sub-orbital again,:: Wheeljack snickered. ::Enjoy the rest of your patrol.::

::We usually do,:: Razor snickered, then ran a serious system scan to make sure Wheeljack, and Perceptor, were indeed off the line. Then he locked communications down. "All right Stormy, spill it."

"Uh, what?" she tried not to squeak.

"Tow trucks are not usually also science-fiction authors. Granted, they also don't usually _talk_, but I'm getting used to that," T-Bone pointed out. "So, what's _really_ happening here?"

The jet whimpered, then whined, her engines cycling in distress.

"Stormshock," Razor growled at her, a warning and entreaty all in one. Her last chance before he activated security protocols designed to keep her in check if she ever went rogue.

"They are the aliens we were talking about," she admitted miserably.

"And you know this _why_?" T-Bone asked her suspiciously.

"I, well, kinda cornered Wheeljack about it after he saved me from Hard Drive," she gave the distinct verbal impression of trying to curl up and hide. "When he tried to steal the tank."

"So you've known about this for _months_, and you never thought we needed to know that we were harboring an alien in the Yard? Even after he decided to bring a friend, who's been spending the entire time _sitting in one of our labs with all of our equipment, records, and gear_?" The tabby demanded.

"I did," she protested. "He ... he convinced me not to," her voice trailed off as it sank in just what it sounded like. "Wheeljack could access everything anyway. He can ... they're really advanced. They want to be friendlies. He ... he made sense," she said miserably.

"Well, Razor? What do you think?" T-Bone muttered. "Don't know if we _can_ do anything about them being at the Yard, not with what we've got."

"We ask them to come to one of my remote labs and I have a little chat with the two of them," Razor said grimly. "And you will _not_ tell them what's up, got it?"

"Yes, Creator," she whimpered.

"You're not having that chat alone," T-Bone said firmly.

"Chance, one of us has to be able to warn Callie and Felina if this goes bad," Razor reminded him pragmatically. "Remember, this is _my_ lab. My home turf. I'm more dangerous there than as Razor."

"Then make sure it's your turf," T-Bone warned him. "Pick a lab they haven't been in before, one they haven't had a chance to play around with or get used to."

"I will. I have one special just for this kind of scenario."

"So, what can you tell us about what you've _seen_ them do?" T-Bone asked Stormshock, hoping to make sure his mate was as well-equipped as possible for what was coming.

"Wheeljack can transform too," she offered. "I've only seen the two of them, but I've listened to comm chatter from others. There are at least six others; I've heard that many names."

* * *

><p><strong>"Are you sure about this, Wheeljack?"<strong> Perceptor asked, his EM field a jagged mess reflecting his mental state at the coming confrontation. Even though Jake had phrased it as a request and sounded friendly, neither mech was fooled.

**"The alternative is basically abandoning the planet and leaving it for when the 'Cons arrive, not to mention making Stormshock feel completely betrayed,"** Wheeljack pointed out. **"There's no alternative that I'm willing to take, and if Jazz is going to get upset about it, right now, I'm willing to push back. We shouldn't be making friends by lying to the people we're trying to be friends with. And we _need_ to be friends with SWAT."**

**"True,"** the scientist murmured, uneasy as they stepped inside a relatively small underground workshop. One too small for them to easily transform or move around in. Just as Perceptor was ready to ask if Wheeljack was sure, they picked up Jake further down the entry ramp.

"Glad you came," His voice, though friendly in tone, had enough undertone of harshness and displeasure to make both mechs wince internally.

Well, might as well get it all out in the open.

"I'm guessing you didn't really buy the 'making it all up' story earlier," Wheeljack said apologetically. "It wasn't my best work, I'll admit, and I didn't like it even when I was saying it."

"Not really, though I wasn't sure you were lying until I forced Stormshock to confess. Come on," Jake waved them further inside. "I'd prefer to sit for this conversation. I expect a long one. Be glad you made such a good impression. Most wouldn't get this kind of second chance."

"And, considering what you've run into before, I can't really blame you," Wheeljack admitted, following him inside carefully. Part of him wanted to run a quick scan of the area, see if Chance was waiting for them, or what sort of traps, but he made himself ignore his training. He needed to leave the Intel side of him outside tonight.

When Jake had settled in a chair near the back of one of the few rooms in the small facility, he settled his gaze on the two vehicles. "So let's start with the real, full story."

"First off, like Perceptor, I can transform, though I'd rather not do so inside here. Probably an intentional move, if I were to guess," Wheeljack observed. "We come from a world named Cybertron, which has been torn apart by a civil war. The two major factions in the war are the Autobots, who Perceptor and I are with, and the Decepticons, who are currently in control of Cybertron and hunting down the rest of us throughout the galaxy as we look for a new home. Cybertron... very few people want to admit it, but it's dying, and we need a new home if our species is going to survive."

"Yes, an intentional move, among others we should all hope you don't find out about," Jake nodded with the less than subtle warning, and considered the pair. "And of all the worlds you could have chosen, you come _here_?"

"We've tried others," Wheeljack admitted. "What I said about there being something special about Aristal? It's true. There's a type of energy here that's identical to what we called the Allspark... basically, the soul of Primus, our creator and the source of all new Cybertronian souls. Optimus was forced to send the Allspark into space to prevent Megatron from getting it... I suppose I should explain some of those names," he sighed. "Do you have a non-networked machine I can project images on?"

Jake nodded and tapped a control on the low-profile bracer he had on his right forearm. A floor panel slid back and a metal box slid up to fill the space. Once settled it powered up and a blank holo-field appeared over it.

Wheeljack extended a cable, hooking into the system.

"This is Optimus Prime; Prime is his rank, basically the political and spiritual leader of Cybertron," Wheeljack explained, projecting an image of a large, powerfully built mech painted blue with red flames. Next to him stood Perceptor's bipedal mode at less than half the Prime's height. Also projected was a compact, vehicular form that really reminded Jake of a rounded brick he _really_ wouldn't want to get hit by.

"Before the war, Optimus tried to keep the peace by coming to a power sharing agreement with the Decepticons. It worked about as well as Feral trying to stop Omega attacks by agreeing to share power with Dark Kat would." The image of Optimus disappeared, replaced with Megatron's gigantic, oddly angled silver image, again placed next to Perceptor for perspective.

"That's Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. His hunger for power, and what he's willing to do to get it, is what Optimus completely underestimated. Sharing power never would have worked; one way or another, Megatron wants the universe at his feet. He tried to take the Allspark for himself. If he had, he would have had a legitimate claim to sole power over Cybertron, the rank of Prime, and even if we didn't particularly _want_ to follow him, having the Allspark would give him sole access to the ability of our people to breed, basically. Optimus sent it into space, rather than let that happen, planning to find where it had gone after the war was over. Megatron wouldn't be the first megalomaniac who'd become Prime, and Optimus wasn't willing to let our people endure those sort of pointless wars of conquest again."

"Lovely," Jake scowled, already placing the pieces together than amounted to 'if this is the truth, we are _screwed_'. "So what was Megatron before he lead the Decepticons? Did he taken them over or found them?"

"He founded them, for all intents and purposes," Wheeljack explained. "The Decepticons were made up of other groups; mostly the Seekers, and a lot of military organizations and rogue scientists. The Seekers are a class of Cybertronian that's... basically what Stormshock would have been. Literally born to be the best in the air, and they almost universally went to the 'Cons, thanks to his recruiting the top Seeker, Starscream, as his second in command. It's a relationship that nobody really understands; all I can figure is that Megatron keeps Starscream around because he knows that he's the key to keeping the Seekers, while Starscream _sticks_ around because he wants to take control away from Megatron. What he was before... most people don't know, probably because knowing Megatron isn't the key to a long and healthy life. I believe he was one of the military command bots, who decided that he wanted more. It would explain how he was able to recruit Starscream. Most worlds we've been on, we left rather than bring the war to them. We'd fight long enough to convince Megatron that he'd rather keep tracking us than strip the planet. But with Aristal, that just won't work, because of the Allspark energy. We're going to have to draw the line here, for Aristal's sake as much as for ours."

"And Stormshock, what is _she_?" he asked pointedly.

"I'm... going to have to ask for a little context there," Wheeljack admitted. "If you're wondering if she's one of us, no. She's... _almost_ completely unique. One of two non-Cybertronian, non-Cybertronian _related_, sparked lifeforms we've ever discovered, and the only one we've met. The other one is somewhere here on Aristal, but we don't know where, or who might have created it. As far as we can guess, you just advanced the Turbokat so much that the Allspark energy here on Aristal recognized a chance to fulfill its purpose, and Stormy's the result. But she's the jet you built, every inch of her."

_'And thank Primus that that's still the case,'_ he thought to himself.

"I'll lay an educated guess that the other is connected to Dark Kat," Jake said grimly. "Is the wreckage I've been working on the same one I saw in the Yard just before we were called away?"

"No, it isn't," Wheeljack admitted. "That was a crashed Cybertronian, we don't know who yet. The ID ping was damaged beyond recognition, along with most of the frame and protoform. You were about to rip out his spark chamber when I triggered the alarm to distract you. While Perceptor and the others arranged for a replacement set of wreckage for you to work on, I called in one of the favors Hard Drive owes me for letting him live after he attacked Stormy. He was under strict orders not to hurt anybody, and he knows better than to cross Cybertronian intel, so there wasn't any real risk to Aristalian life of using him as a distraction. The alternative would have been letting you unwittingly kill somebody, and I couldn't let that happen in all good conscience," he said apologetically.

Jake hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. "When were you going to come clean, if things went according to plan?"

"To be honest, I'd figured that we'd have to come clean to you and Chance within a few months," Wheeljack explained. "Maybe sooner, if something happened to Stormy, or the 'Cons arrived sooner than expected. My superiors were hoping for at least a year or two, but they hadn't met you and Chance. Or Stormy, for that matter," he actually chuckled slightly. "Stormshock is _far_ too eager to get herself a body that's up to Cybertronian specs to put her off until they're ready, and whatever she might say aside, I don't think you'd have accepted her suddenly turning up with an array of new tricks and made out of metals that Chance can't even pronounce as something that she managed to do on her own. _Or_ with help from me and Perceptor playing around during off-hours," he added, knowing what her explanation probably would have involved. "I was planning on pushing Jazz and Prowl to bring you two in once the chassis was ready, but before we transferred her spark chamber, so that you were expecting it the first time she forgot and transformed with you two inside of her. Which is unsettling, but safe," he added.

The kat nodded. "Then thank you," he decided. "A spark chamber is more than a fuel cell, I'm guessing."

"Much," Wheeljack admitted. "It's basically the heart and soul of a mech. If it loses power... there are a handful of stories about mechs recovering, if they were repaired and refueled quickly, but it's more common to recover from losing power to the brain than the spark."

"And that is not very common," Perceptor added. "Everything that makes up an individual mechanized life-form is a part of the spark, from baseline personality traits to primary purpose and autonomic functions. There is some evidence that the primary alternate form is linked to the spark as well, though it is inconclusive at this point; there are occasions of mechs -"

"Perceptor? Too much detail," Wheeljack interrupted him. "At least for now. The wreckage we gave you included all the parts, but had never been sparked. Though the energon converter that Perceptor rigged out of it _is_ a working model, at least to the extent that we could risk getting out into the wild without authorization. We'd hoped that introducing you to an entirely new energy source would distract you from the inconsistencies."

"It worked," Jake admitted. "Until I started to think about it in context of what Stormy said. I noted them, but didn't _think_ about it until I had reason too. Is ... he? Likely to recover?"

"Ratchet, our CMO, isn't even bothering to try recovering the frame, and most of the protoform is going to be scrapped beyond repair too," Wheeljack explained. "But, as long as things don't take a turn for the worse in terms of medical's workload, he thinks they'll be able to keep him going until they can get a replacement built. Of course, that's going to take a _very_ long time, by kat standards," he cautioned. "For what it's worth, Jake, nothing you did changed things for the worst. Actually, if he hadn't been brought to the Yard, he wouldn't have stood a chance, and if you hadn't made it imperative to get him out of the Yard ASAP, he probably would have faded out before I arranged an evac. Oh, and 'he' is a pretty good default to go to, though it doesn't apply to every Cybertronian. Gender is a fairly flexible concept for us, but we're used to it from dealing with organics."

Another nod and Jake looked thoughtful. "Why plan to upgrade Stormy? Where you actually planning to go through with it?"

"Jake," Wheeljack chuckled, "how many pieces do you think she'd leave me in if I promised it to her and then she realized I'd just been stringing her along? Frankly, the upgrades we had in mind would let her perform near her actual ability, help keep Aristal's three best defenders alive longer, help us earn brownie points towards showing that we actually _are_ willing to help out, _and_ get us another _damned_ good flyer on our side. At least, those are all the reasons I gave Prowl and Jazz. Personally... have _you_ ever tried to tell her 'no' when she wanted an upgrade?" He asked with another chuckle. One that deepened when Jake laughed brightly along with him.

"Yes, and so has Chance," the kat continued to laugh, shaking his head. "It works about as well as telling me I can't play with the new toy dropped off in the Yard, only much more lost kitten in nature. She's entirely too good at that for something without a face ... which she'll have soon, won't she?" he groaned in anticipation of actually having to _look_ at that face when trying to say no.

"For what it's worth, Cybertronian faces aren't _quite_ as expressive as organic ones," Wheeljack chuckled. "At least, not normally. She'll also have hands, legs, missile mounts, and a variety of other toys, all built to handle your gear, so the heavy weapons might also work in your favor. But you can understand why it isn't easy to say that we're not going to at least see if we _can_ do it."

"Believe me, I know," Jake said. "She's been whining about wanting hands since she figured out what they were. So how about showing me what I'm going to have to teach Chance how to fly without him realizing it and fix without all your fancy equipment."

"Well, when she's in her alt form, it actually _should_ fly the same as the Turbokat does now," Wheeljack chuckled. "She'll have the capability to do more, but she won't know what to do with it for a while. But I think we can arrange for you to get a chance to see her... possibly even a bit more, though I'll have to arrange things with my superiors. Not looking forward to that conversation," he admitted.

"I bet," Jake nodded grimly. "Show me who they are?" he motioned to the holo-projector.

"Primary form _only_ on my direct superior, Jazz," Wheeljack told him, bringing up the mech's image relative to Perceptor's. "He'll be even more slagged off if somebody knows what he looks like right now. Jazz is Prime's second-in-command in the field right now, and Autobot head of intelligence. He's probably the most brilliant, devious mind you'll find out there, but in all the good ways. Think about what you're like when you're thinking security; that's Jazz's overall level of ability when it comes to planning covert ops. Currently, he's gathering intel in another city, Megakat City is just me and Perceptor, right now."

Jake nodded, humming thoughtfully. "And the story about settling in the Badlands; how accurate was that?"

"It's not a final decision that we've planned, but I haven't heard anything that indicates there's a better place on Aristal, with the possible exception of Tusandrin. But frankly, the odds are much better for the Badlands, simply because there's nobody else who really _wants_ the territory we'd be likely to use. There's plenty of area for a good solar array, some places where we could establish geothermal processors, and by the time we'd be done with it, it'd be a good defensive position too," Wheeljack added. "We _want_ to try and keep the fighting as far away from populated regions as we can. To be perfectly honest, any one combat-trained Cybertronian is at least a match for a low-grade Omega, and there are damned few who _aren't_ combat trained after this long. So the more of the fighting that stays _out_ of cities, the less collateral damage that ends up happening to the native populations."

Jake nodded again. "So heat is a preferred environment?"

"At least within the environmental range of this world, yes," Perceptor spoke up. "Do you have another suggestion?"

"Maybe," the kat shrugged. "Since you can change your vehicle mode and can build spaceships ... as far as I know there's no one trying to live anywhere in the oceans."

"We can change our vehicle modes within reason," Wheeljack explained. "Changing to an entirely different vehicle type... it's feasible, but very uncomfortable. For example, from a car to a truck isn't a big problem. But from a car to a boat would involve a great deal of reconfiguration and new programming, while going to an aerial form is right out of the question; I wouldn't have any idea how to _use_ it properly, even if I could up the output on my engines to handle it," he admitted. "Land is preferable, but the oceans might work in case we can't find anything else."

"So there are parts beyond the spark chamber and processors that can't be changed out easily?" Jake half ask, half realized.

"The scan process requires time to reconfigure the body to work properly," Perceptor explained. "The closer the new frame is to the old one, the less time it takes. For Wheeljack, it was a matter of converting from one wheeled ground vehicle to another; all the components were there, he only had to make some adjustments to shape, color, and placement."

"And figure out what the heck to do with the winch mount," Wheeljack admitted. "I ended up replacing my flamethrower with it, though I've got that subspaced for emergencies."

"By contrast," Perceptor continued, "for me it would have involved creating many parts whole-cloth, including the engine, wheels, transmission, gearing, and tires. It would likely take several joor... approximately six local hours, total," he corrected himself. "Taking on a form like Stormshock's, in addition to being highly hazardous to one's health, would likely take at least a local day for the full conversion, even if she was willing to accept it, and we wouldn't have the knowledge to make use of the body. Further, most Cybertronians only have the programming for one alt form at a time. Wheeljack might be able to adopt an aquatic form, but he'd be stuck with that and his mech form if he needed to help with something on-land. Of course, the triple-changers would have an easier time of it, but there are very few of them left."

Jake considered all that, turning it over several times before speaking. "So it's a matter of programming, time, energy and personal preference. Has anyone tried to load the needed programs onto a chip to swap out as needed?"

"Jazz did, once," Wheeljack snickered. "Ratchet had some _choice_ words for him after he'd finished digging him out of the crater that resulted from his first crash, and I believe that the general consensus was that Jazz wouldn't do that again. Which means that he doesn't let Ratchet find out about it. Now don't get me wrong, it _worked_, it's just that you had a few hundred vorn of limited three-dimensional movement and a borrowed knowledge of flight physics trying to do things that Seekers can only do because they're sparked for flying."

"Though, knowing Jazz, it may have been on purpose so that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would not attempt to do it themselves," Perceptor chuckled. "Those two with the ability to _actually_ fly would be truly frightening."

"Nah, they'd never go for it," Wheeljack said easily. "They _like_ the fact that they're a pair of groundpounding jet killers. You don't get their reputation winning fair fights."

"Very true," Jake could help but laugh. "They'd loose their rep and the real fliers would never accept them if it's anything like a tanker going pilot is for us."

"Oh, they'd know better than to say it to their faces," Wheeljack chuckled. "But that's getting more into the details of who everybody is than I think you want to. Though, seriously, we probably should introduce Stormy to them sooner rather than later, now that all three of you know about us. I don't want the first time she meets the Twins to be during a fight, even on the same side."

"Particularly if it's against any Seekers," Jake nodded. "First things first though. Introduce you to Chance. Now, back to who we're going to meet, _and_ those I need to watch out for."

"Of course," Wheeljack nodded, running through the others on the ship and on Aristal, though without revealing their cover identities. When he got back to the Decepticons, he slowed down a bit more, bringing up a number of jets in groups of three.

"Each of these is a trine of Seekers," he explained. "Individually, each of them has their own powers and special skills, but any given Trine also has their own abilities that they can use as a unit. I'm focusing so much on them because... well, frankly, they're going to be interested in Stormy, especially after she has her upgrades. I'm going to strongly recommend against including interfacing protocols for her, but with everything else that's different about her, she'll probably figure it out herself. Assuming she hasn't already," he admitted.

Jake's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Interfacing ... sex for mechs?"

"Well, basically, yes," Wheeljack said.

Perceptor managed to, somehow, make his giant tank of a microscope form look embarrassed.

"That's one of the main reasons that we'll have to watch Stormy when the Seekers show up," Wheeljack explained. "Cybertronians _do_ have sex, and Seekers even breed... it's hypothetically possible for any Cybertronian, it just hasn't been _done_ since before the Golden Age the war ended. Even Mirage's tower mechs, as hidebound as they could be, didn't do it anymore. Too undignified, I imagine. But Seekers breed, and judging from how Skyfire handles being in _orbit_, the Seekers being at combat altitudes... well, think of Stormshock as a relatively innocent prom queen stopping off at a biker bar," he said awkwardly, looking for a metaphor that _wouldn't_ break Jake's brain completely.

The kat shuddered. "A prom queen with a definite taste for bad toms," he murmured. "I don't suppose there's anyone on your side to keep her occupied until it's firm in her processors who the enemy is? And what needs to be done for birth control? The _last_ thing I need is a flock of little Stormshocks around right now."

"Uhm... Slingshot, maybe?" Perceptor offered, turning his lens to look at Wheeljack. "Skydive?"

"No ... though Skydive and Chance will get along _famously_," Wheeljack mused. "They've both got a thing for military history, especially around the air. Slingshot _might_ work, but Stormy wouldn't put up with his ego for too long, I don't think. I'd say that Air Raid's the best bet, for keeping her interest and being honestly interested himself. They both love mixing it up in the air; Air Raid's got the most fitting name of the entire team. The other advantage is that the Aerialbots aren't _quite_ Seekers, so they shouldn't be as nuts in close to Aristal. Plus, if she's hooked up with _any_ of the Aerials, she'll have all five of them watching out for her. I give her a week before she's ready to haul Silverbolt into low orbit just to get him to think about something other than the risks she takes for herself," he snickered.

Jake joined them, just at the descriptions. "Who's the fifth one?"

"Fireflight," Wheeljack brought up his image and basic specs. "He's ... flaky. A fun mech, but not one she'll have any real tolerance for. As far as preventing sparklings... that would be Ratchet's subject, or _maybe_ Skyfire's," Perceptor explained. "Honestly, I don't know that there _is_ anything."

"What about Cloudburst, Groundrunner, Powerglide, Sky High, Cloudraker, Groundshaker, Brainstorm, Dogfight, Eagle Eye or Tread Bolt?" Percept asked after reviewing the full list of flight-capable Autobots. "Or Skyfire?" he added hesitantly.

"Skyfire'd kill me if I set him up with another mech," Wheeljack chuckled fondly. "Seriously, he's close enough to going generative as it is. That's basically the Seeker version of going into heat," he added for Jake's benefit. "If we're trying to avoid anything like that with Skyfire, _whoever_ the carrier would be, we want to keep him away from her."

"Wouldn't all the Aerials and Seekers be close then?" Perceptor asked, deferring to Wheeljack's personal knowledge. "If a combat Shuttle, who's only Seeker-kin is that affected, they all should be."

"That's why I was thinking about the Aerialbots," Wheeljack explained. "It's not a matter of flying, it's a matter of _being_ Seeker. Dogfight, Treadbolt, and most of the others are all true Seekers, or at least close kin to them. On the other hand, the Aerialbots weren't even _built_ by Seekers. They're high performance flyers, but they don't have the culture or the coding. They just shouldn't have the _ability_ to go generative, especially since they're also Gestalts. Cybertronians who can combine themselves into another mech," he added for Jake's benefit. "They're kind of like spark-twins that way; they should need to have all five sparks involved in any kindling. In theory," he admitted.

"Which makes fooling around, even as a group, far less likely to produce little ones," Jake relaxed significantly. "They'd be who she should get to know first then, at least of the fighter jets. I'm sure she'll try to learn about interfacing earlier than I'm ready to have a teenager on my hands." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Do your kind even have the equivalent of a teenager?"

"Oh, yes, and consider yourself lucky that I think Stormy's going to age out of it _well_ before the average Cybertronian does," Wheeljack chuckled. "At least assuming you're thinking about 'disruptive, fiercely independent, fresh 'facing protocols, and not necessarily the sense to know when not to use them - or anything else that they've just figured out how to do, for that matter.'"

Jake couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, that phase. I hope she does. Chance hasn't yet, not really. Work hard, fight hard, play harder pretty well sums them both up."

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm not _entirely_ sure that Jazz has grown out of it yet himself, and he's old enough to _remember_ when it wasn't just Seekers who carried their sparklings," Wheeljack chuckled. "On the subject, briefly, if anything _would_ happen with the Aerialbots, Stormshock almost certainly wouldn't be the carrier. My money would be on Silverbolt, for size and temperament. We're not planning on building Stormshock's new frame that large," he promised, bringing up some sketches and schematics in various stages of completion for Jake to look over.

"Comparable in size to her current frame?" he asked as he stood and began interacting with the protections, taking them to full 3D, expanding various parts to take a closer look.

"Comparable in size and physical configuration," Wheeljack agreed. "The idea had been that you and Chance wouldn't be able to tell the difference in her jet form, except for the new abilities. Depending on how some of my energy system designs work out, she might be a bit more of a gas guzzler, but that's because of the energy shield we've installed. She's fairly pessimistic about her ability to not get blown apart on a regular basis, so I thought that it was worth the energy investment to install it. It'll stop just about anything short of a nuke, but you can practically watch the energon evaporate fueling it when it's active."

Jake nodded, only paying half attention to Wheeljack as he examined the design. "Did you use my designs for the next upgrade round or was it a lucky guess?"

"A bit of both, actually," Perceptor said easily. "Some of the design elements were in common mostly because of luck, but after I gave you the idea for transformation, we thought it would be best if we incorporated some of your design ideas so that it wasn't as unbelievable that Stormshock had managed the upgrades."

"How stock is the head?" he glanced at the two mechs after getting a look at the mech form she'd have.

"We went for one that we thought fit her personality, but it can easily be modified, pretty extensively," Wheeljack told him, before catching onto the idea he thought Jake had in mind. "Something feline?" He asked.

"She _is_ a native," he said absently as a dozen mechanoid feline faces appeared in the holo field from his collection. "I don't want to alienate her from your kind given your similar nature, but it would be more fitting, and easier to be accepted, if she looks like something a kat might design. Ears, muzzle, tail, obvious claws ... well, you guys have those already, but you get the point. I do put the effort I can in making her look good."

"None of those should be a problem," Wheeljack reassured him. "It'll take a little time to make the adjustments, but not long at all... might give us some more room for a more elaborate sensor suite," he mused, working over the ideas. "Any of those are actually more 'normal' than some of the other mechs out there, so I wouldn't anticipate any problems with her getting along, especially since she is native to Aristal. You saw how varied our forms can be just from the images that I showed you," he pointed out.

"Very true," Jake gave him a sideways smile. "She's hinted that she likes this look a lot," he brought up a picture of a rather androgynous tom kat with a mirrored band over his eyes. "It's well beyond my resources, but maybe your crew can do something similar? What I've gathered the glasses and muzzle are what she likes. She may be a shekat, but she's doing a tom's work. The more masculine features match what she's used to having around her."

"It might confuse a few mechs, but not much," Wheeljack chuckled. "And we could do something like that easily. Good place to set up a secondary HUD as well, give her access to the same information she provides you and Chance with in a visual format. I'll send the specs on up after I've had a chance to calm Jazz down."

"I can only imagine ... but at least he's no Commander Feral," Jake snickered as he continued to play with the schematics, making minor modifications for projects he knew were coming and a few for aesthetics, but overall just checking out what he was going to be handed.

_'No,'_ Wheeljack thought to himself, letting Jake work. _'Feral only grounded you. Jazz... I've got no idea just what he'll have in mind after this.'_


	15. New Acquaintances

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Skyfire/Wheeljack  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Furry, Slash  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (anhrefn-hyfryd .livejournal .com/22919 .html) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 15: New Acquaintances<strong>

* * *

><p>"Hey, Razor," T-Bone called back from the front seat. "Your new friends say anything about coming down for a little air time? I've got three bogies without recognizable ID pings. Wondering if they're somebody you know about."<p>

"Negative," the smaller kat tensed. "Cybertronian?"

"Confirmed," Stormshock shivered faintly in excitement. "They're tetrajets."

"I _really_ hope that just means they didn't tell us they were coming down for a flight," T-Bone growled, banking to approach them, dropping in low to try and stay below their radar. "Maybe some sort of a search party out looking for that guy the Enforcers found," he suggested.

"Transmitting datapack to Wheeljack," Stormshock told them. "If he doesn't know them, the Ark database should."

"We'll have visual in a second," T-Bone added. The response from Wheeljack came almost the same instant that they saw the three jets.

"That's the Elite Trine," the tabby announced, as Wheeljack's message confirmed it. "Engage, or track, Razor?"

"We have to get our wings tested sometime," Razor said to another shiver of excitement from the jet they were in. "Prepping the new anti-Con weapons."

"And here I was thinking we'd get to see how they worked on Dark Kat first," T-Bone chuckled grimly, banking around the jets in the distance. "Let me know when you've got a clean lock, Sureshot, I want this first one to count double."

A tense, excitement driven moment passed as they closed on the alien trine before Razor's voice rumbled in the cockpit.

"Target lock on Skywarp," he said, the darkest of the trine, the teleporter, dead in his sights. "Secondary lock on Thundercracker and Starscream."

"Take the shot, and brace for a climb!" T-Bone warned him, pulling up to fly straight up through the trio of tetrajets, giving Razor the best chance to get more than one shot at them from surprise.

Missiles launched, but they were secondary. The real attack was a powerful plasma blast from just under the Turbokat's nose.

The black testrajet, the one on leader's right, was hit square on even as his trinemates broke formation to dodge while he went down smoking.

"Got him!" Stormshock exclaimed with a verbal grin as T-Bone took her up towards the sun, banking to come around for another pass.

"Get the wing leader next, buddy," T-Bone told him, angling for the white-and-black jet, while trying to stay aware of the red one that broke off to try and make it harder to focus on just one of them. "Confirmed impact?"

"Negative. Bugger jumped somewhere," Razor grumbled even as he targeted Starscream.

"No impact, but he _is_ down," Stormshock spoke up. "Tracked him going down fast and smoking seven miles northeast. Five incoming from space. Ping as the Aerialbots."

"Incoming!" T-Bone warned them, rolling out of the way of a pair of rockets that Thundercracker launched at them. "They're good," he admitted grudgingly, trying to get back into position for a lock on Starscream. "Brace for the next time that happens, might not have much warning."

"I'll be ready," Razor promised as he got a missile lock on Thundercracker and sent a scrambler missile his way even as he targeted Starscream with the new plasma gun.

Before he could fire, Starscream pulled up into a sharp loop, coming in behind the Turbokat and firing with his own blasters.

"Fools!" He screamed at them over the comm. "Who are you, to try ambushing us!" T-Bone managed to keep them from getting hit, pulling around sharply, praying that Razor wouldn't black out from the g-forces.

"We're the SWAT Kats," Stormshock snarled at him, moving the maneuvers just a little harder in an effort to get anywhere but in front of him. "Your kind aren't welcome here!"

"So long, 'splat' kats!" Starscream told them. "We'll be sure to credit you as the first fools on this planet to fall!" He fired on them with his nullifier, the white beam clipping Stormshock's wing despite her best efforts.

"Crud!" T-Bone snarled as the engines flamed out. "Engines dead, electronics... Stormshock, are you still there?" He asked, grunting as he pulled the stick to try and smooth out their descent towards the surface.

"Not responding," Razor replied. "Frozen with the rest of the systems. We'll have to eject at the last minute."

"Yeah, I've got some bad news there, too," T-Bone said grimly. "Look at your chair controls. It looks like that thing took out the seats too. I don't suppose any of that land looks particularly soft, does it?"

A supersonic cargo jet swooped in low, opening fire on the ground. The blaster bolts kicked up debris, tearing up the surface of the badlands and leaving behind something that, hopefully, would be _slightly_ less disastrous to crash into.

"That, and we'll thank Silverbolt later," Razor said grimly as they watched the large jet swoop away to assist his team with the two Seekers. He'd have liked to watch the entire fight, but he had to focus on doing what he could to be ready for impact.

"This is going to hurt," T-bond said softly. "Good knowing ya, buddy."

"Good to know you too, buddy," Razor replied, closing his eyes and trying to relax every muscle in his body to best take the impact.

* * *

><p>Silverbolt winced internally as he heard the Turbokat crash, though he was glad not to hear any explosions. They had a chance, at least - as long as they got this over with <em>fast<em>.

::Silverbolt to Ark; get Ratchet and all other available medical personnel ready for injured. One mech, two organics, all suffering various crash injuries. We'll bring them up as soon as we've gotten the Elites out of our airspace.::

He flew up towards the battle, taking the chance for a few shots at Starscream that grazed the Seeker's wing.

~Aerialbots, break off to form Superion!~ He ordered them over the gestalt bond.

~For two Seekers?~ Air Raid complained.

~We have to end this _now_, Air Raid,~ Silverbolt told him firmly. ~We have more important things to worry about than the fight!~

~Stormshock?~ Fireflight guessed as the team broke off and converged around Silverbolt.

Even as their independent awareness's dimmed and Superion emerged they all snickered on some level at the visible squawk the two Seekers gave before they bolted from the field towards where Skywarp had crashed.

By the time Superion's consciousness completely dominated the others, the field of battle had cleared. With the Seekers gone, and no other apparent Decepticon presence, that meant the only other thing to do was to take care of the casualties. Superion's combined processors disengaged, returning control to its component parts as it separated.

~I'll need somebody to load Stormshock and her passengers onto me so we can get them to the Ark,~ Silverbolt told them. ~Air Raid, think you can handle riding along with them, in case she wakes up? She'll need somebody there to make sure she doesn't panic before she's in medical.~

~Sure thing,~ he nearly trilled as they followed their leader to the crash site and transformed while Silverbolt engaged his grav-systems to set down gently right next to the mangled black jet. ~But I don't think she's going to wake up.~

~Poor thing,~ Fireflight clicked in distress at the sight of sheered off wings.

~Just load her, gently. Those organics are _fragile_,~ Silverbolt focused his team.

~Don't worry, we'll be careful,~ Slingshot promised. ~She's not in much better shape right now herself.~ The four smaller mechs transformed as they touched down, carefully picking up Stormshock and as many pieces as they could gather together to load into their leader's larger frame. Air Raid stayed inside once they were finished, the rest of them transforming to provide an escort out to the Ark.

With the command codes that were his right as the Aerial commander Silverbolt logged into the debate currently raging on the encrypted comm channel between Wheeljack, Jazz, Perceptor, Prowl, Ratchet and Prime.

::Are you _trying_ to get those two killed?:: Ratchet roared. ::Stormshock I can repair, probably just upgrade her, but I don't have any idea how to fix the organics!::

::We've got the datafiles and you've worked on organics before,:: Wheeljack pointed out. ::We don't have any other _choice_, Ratchet. If we take them to a normal hospital, assuming they didn't die while we were getting clearance for Silverbolt to drop them off, they'd end up in a prison cell after they'd been fixed up! Remember, they're wanted criminals, thanks to the idiots running this city!::

::Ratchet, we _need_ those two alive, healthy, free and _liking_ us,:: Jazz added over his mate's low humm of disproval. ::If we do anything _other_ than repair her creators most if not all of those will fail.::

::Tactically, it is the better choice,:: Prowl reluctantly agreed. ::We were going to bring them on board in a decacycle for her upgrade anyway.::

::Not injured, and not needing supplies that I don't even have!:: Ratchet protested. ::Blood, sutures, anesthetics - I can't just weld pieces back together and pump in lubricant and energon! We're not outfitted for treating organics!:: He insisted.

::Then tell me what you need, and I'll get it,:: Wheeljack countered. ::One way or another. I've heard their voices enough that I can put together a datafile to play for somebody who can get me what you need.::

::Silverbolt!:: the CMO snarled. ::I know you're logged into this. Transmit the best scan you can manage and their bio-signs.::

::In progress,:: he said simply, activating the scanners inside, patching the results in to Ratchet's datastream. ::There's a chance it might not be as bad as you're expecting,:: he offered, though he didn't have _any_ idea what the information he was getting was saying.

::It could be worse,:: the CMO admitted grudgingly. ::At least they won't bleed out before you get here. Wheeljack, got the supply list?::

::Yes and on it,:: Wheeljack responded, already moving to collect what he knew was in the Hanger while he opened a comm channel and logged it into Doctor Heit's phone line.

"This is the Doc speaking; what's happened?" The kat on the other hand asked tersely.

"We crashed the Turbokat in the Badlands; we got back to the Yard, but we need some supplies," Wheeljack told him, using Jake's voice, altering it for some level of pain. "Sending you the list; we need it ASAP."

"You'll need somebody who knows how to use it too... I'll do what I can, meet you at the Yard shortly. Remember to shut down the security this time, if you can, all right?"

"Will do, Doc," Wheeljack promised, cutting the comm channel. He had to appreciate the fact that the Doctor didn't ask many questions. If he did, he might have asked why they needed enough supplies for two injured kats when Jake at least was in good enough shape to get back to the Yard. Of course, getting the supplies and getting rid of him would be difficult, but he might not have to...

::Ratchet, Jazz - authorization to bring in a trained organic doctor? This _is_ an emergency, and he'll be able to help them more than Ratchet will,:: Wheeljack pointed out. ::He's trustworthy enough that he knows who Jake and Chance really are.::

::Granted,:: Jazz replied. He was Not Happy, but he wasn't about to take it out on a couple organic allies who weren't really at fault.

::Damn right you grant it,:: Ratchet growled. ::Skyfire!::

::Yes?:: the combat shuttle replied, a little surprised to being pulled into a command briefing.

::Yet down to that planet and pick up Wheeljack, Perceptor and whatever kat they want to bring.:: The CMO ordered curtly.

::But ... generative...:: Skyfire stumbled over his objection.

::Then Wheeljack is all yours once you get back to the Ark,:: Ratchet snorted. ::I need those supplies _NOW_.::

* * *

><p>Doctor Federick Heit scowled as he pulled his car into the Scrap Yard. He <em>hated<em> coming out here. Not that he didn't like Jake and Chance, but he _really_ didn't like having to treat badly injured kats without appropriate facilities. And they only ever called him when one or both of them was _very_ badly injured.

Their tow truck was out, but there wasn't any other sign of life. Jake was probably down taking care of Chance. The white, long-furred Kat climbed out of his car, pulling out the medical bag he'd loaded everything into, and turned to approach the building. Then he realized that the truck was moving towards him without a driver.

"My apologies for the deception, but Jake and Chance are _both_ badly injured. I need to take you to them, and I need you not to talk about this to anybody," the truck informed him.

"Then who - never mind, if this was some sort of trap you'd be after somebody more important than me," the Doctor growled, climbing into the driver's seat. "Where are we going?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the truck chuckled lowly. "My name's Wheeljack. We're going to be picked up by another transport shortly. Is there anything else you needed to bring?"

"No, everything _has_ to fit in one bag or people start asking why I'm smuggling out units of blood and bottles of oxycontin." Doctor Heit buckled in, just before he saw a space shuttle coming down straight towards them. He grabbed hold of the wheel tightly, instinctively reaching for the pedal, trying to get out of the way, but Wheeljack held still.

"Relax, Doc - that's our transport," he said as the hangar opened and Skyfire landed carefully. Wheeljack turned to follow him down, driving up into the cargo bay as it opened. They were followed by a red and white tank-like vehicle.

"Doctor Heit, that's Perceptor, the shuttle is Skyfire. Sky, get us out of here, fast!" Wheeljack said with extra urgency as his lover's EM field wrapped around him, full of arousal bordering on a thought-stealing need. Next to him, Perceptor let out a nervous click as he felt it.

::This is what a generative field is?:: the scientist asked.

::Not yet,:: Skyfire responded, his voice tight as they began to make altitude. ::But it's the early stages, the warning that I'm close.::

::Get us out of here, love. We need to get back to the station, and I need to make sure everything's set up before we can do anything about it. But I'll be there for you if it kicks in,:: Wheeljack assured him.

::Thank you,:: relied flickered through Skyfire's field. ::I hope I calm down, or Ratchet can spare the time to shut it down before it's too late to. You never agreed to be a creator.::

::Maybe not, but I've been a creator before. Besides... we don't even know if it's fully possible yet, even with the Allspark energy here. We'll just have to see what happens. You want me to talk to Ratchet about it, let you get to your quarters once we're there?::

::Yes, please,:: another trickle of relief crept into Skyfire's field. ::The odds we can kindle once I'm fully generative ... they're good. I am Seeker-kin. My systems are set up for it.::

::And you've got the best frame for it of any of us,:: Wheeljack agreed. ::Except maybe Silverbolt, I suppose. Don't worry, we'll figure it out,:: he promised.

::Success or failure, it will be _very_ enjoyable,:: Skyfire purred deeply, causing everything to vibrate on a low frequency that set Wheeljack's systems into arousal almost instantly. ::And _no one_ will contest my claim afterwards.::

::Nobody will,:: Wheeljack reassured him, trying not to groan. ::Sky, please, tone it down long enough for me to take care of what I need to do. For me,:: he added, hoping it would help him keep his control.

The rumbling vibration mused quickly, as much to Perceptor's relief as Wheeljack's.

"Thank you, Skyfire," Perceptor said calmly.

"Landing in forty-five seconds," Skyfire reported, his voice a little tighter than normal as he struggled to keep himself under control. "Landing bay prepared for pressurization. Route and sector three of Medbay pressurized for kat life."

"Before everything decides to go crazy again, I'd just like to ask one question," Doctor Heit said calmly. "Where the Hell are we, and what's going on?"

"That's two questions, and it'll take longer than the thirty seconds before everything decides to go crazy again to answer, Doc," Wheeljack told him. "We're friends, but SWAT got shot down by some of the bad guys, and they're in rough shape. We can help the Turbokat, but we don't know how to help T-Bone and Razor properly. That's where you come in. That's what's important right now; we'll explain the rest after they're stabilized."

"Right," the doctor nodded as the faint jolt of touching down could be felt.

"Fifteen seconds to pressurization," Skyfire reported. "Then Wheeljack will take you to your patients."

"And don't worry about the speeds, everybody's been cleared from the route," the truck promised, revving his engine. When the cargo bay opened, Wheeljack peeled out, driving at what had to be inter-city speeds from the feel of it, though he at least slowed down for corners.

Doors were another matter, but they at least seemed to open quickly enough for him.

In all it was a harrowing drive for the good doctor, but the moment Wheeljack skidded to a stop in a room with equipment, if not ceilings and doors, sized for kats Heit was all business. His patients were lying on tables with some attempt at first aid, but it was little better than the pair could do for themselves.

"Doctor Heit, this is Rewind," Wheeljack told him as a mostly black bipedal robot twice a kat's height waved from several paces away from the tables. "If you need anything, just tell him and he'll get it. What we can't manufacture we can bring from the surface."

"Will do," Heit nodded grimly, taking his bag and hurrying over to see how much work he had cut out for himself. It didn't look good, though he'd pulled one or the other of them out of worse before.

Just not both of them at the same time.

"You guys are lucky I'm not on-call tonight," he muttered as he got to work. "Tomorrow's just going to have to take care of itself."

"Your cover has already been arranged," Rewind told him. "It seems that you were called away to tend to your gravely ill sister, Misarra. You even sent a bottle of vintage Katrian to Dr. Amin an as apology for the short notice in having to cover for you."

"Poor Misarra; one of these days, she's going to _really_ be sick, and nobody's going to believe me," he chuckled lowly as he got to work. "Put up the x-rays, if you have them, I'll need to know what's going on inside as well."

"Gotcha, doc," Rewind moved quickly to set up the scanners and displays.


	16. Jack on Fire

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Skyfire/Wheeljack  
><strong>Rating<strong>: Nc-17 mech/mech  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Slash, Sticky, Mechpreg  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 16: Jack on Fire<p>**

* * *

><p>Wheeljack double-checked that he had no pending messages, logged himself as off duty do to a generative mate and made sure Skyfire had remembered to indicate his state in the system as well. It would keep everyone from bothering them short of the ship being assaulted, at which point it was more about pointing Skyfire the enemy direction and staying out of his way. Even the normally passive, pacifist shuttle was a force to be reckoned with when in this state.<p>

He stopped by his quarters and put as many cubes of his special engineer's high grade into his subspace as he could. He knew they'd need them.

He just hoped that Skyfire would be restrained enough now for him to ask the questions that he knew needed to be asked before they did this. He'd always expected the war to be over before he considered _actually_ becoming a parent, the old-fashioned way or not. When he'd built the Aerials, he'd managed to bend the rules of design enough that he didn't have to help them through the basic stages of growing up.

Any sparkling he kindled with Skyfire? There'd be no getting around it, and he knew that he had to try and make sure Skyfire was ready for what that might mean, with the war still going on.

He made the trip to Skyfire's quarters quickly, pinging the security system and leaving a note not to respond to anybody else unless it was an emergency. As the door opened, he stepped inside, bracing himself for what might be on the other side.

His lover's scent, aroused and laced with something exotic, was thick in the large space. The powerful rumbling whine of Skyfire's inter-galactic engines vibrated the very floorplates from where Skyfire was sitting in the comfortable chair meant for his giant winged frame in the entertainment corner of the room. His normally soft blue optics were blazing with need as he stood and stalked forward with obvious intent.

"I don't think I need to ask how you're doing," Wheeljack chuckled lowly. "Sky, before we get going... we _are_ still in the middle of a war," he pointed out. "And I don't necessarily have the best track record at not getting hurt. Are you sure you want this? With me?"

The shuttle cycled in a deep vent of air and steadied himself. "I have to trust the protocols. They only activate when conditions are favorable and the population low enough. Even with the Allspark energy here, it should not change it that much."

"I'm not talking about the conditions, Skyfire," Wheeljack sighed. "I mean the odds that you'll end up raising a sparkling on your own, at some point. Are you sure you're up for that?"

Wings trembled faintly and optics dimmed. "Yes. I've always been prepared for it." Skyfire knelt and offered a hand to his lover, almost pleading. "The difference between you and the last two sires I chose is that you will be around as much as you can. I've raised two clutches on my own. I can manage a third if I need to."

"I didn't know you'd been a parent before... Skywarp?" Wheeljack guessed, not sure who the second sire might have been, though possibly one of the others in Skywarp's trine. No wonder Skyfire wasn't that hot on fighting, especially against them. He took his lover's hand, climbing up into his berth and kissing him, knowing there wouldn't be much time for slow and gentle tonight.

"His trine the second time," Skyfire murmured painfully, claiming a kiss as his fingers ghosted over Wheeljack's plating. "A very young Springer the first time."

"Never would've picked him out," Wheeljack murmured, gently running his hand along Skyfire's plating as he reached back to stroke one long wing. "Maybe one of these days they'll see reason," he added before kissing him again, more passionately.

"Not while Starscream's insane," Skyfire moaned, though it was hard to tell whether it was from the contact or grief for a lover and sire long lost to him. Large fingers that knew Wheeljack entirely too well played along his sides. "Good chance for sparklings, or low?" Skyfire managed to ask.

"I'm... not sure," Wheeljack admitted with a low groan as Skyfire's fingers slipped between his plates. "Whatever you want, love, we'll take it as it happens."

The shuttle shuddered. His programming knew what it wanted and short of the desires of his mate it would have it. With a nod he let go of the tight hold he had on himself, the one he kept to assure consent, and the generative programming took precedent in his processors.

"Mine," Skyfire's low rumbling growl barely sounded like him as he shifted, carefully pulling Wheeljack on top of him as he settled on his back.

"All yours," Wheeljack agreed, running through his memory of just what was involved. Of course, he knew the basics, but actually trying to sire with Seeker-kin wasn't something he'd put too much effort into figuring out. "Might have to give me a pointer or two," he admitted, opening his interfacing panel.

"You're already good at it all," Skyfire shivered and opened his panel in turn. Unlike their usual, his spike didn't extend. "Overload in me often. Overload in a spark merge. Transfluid carries your base programming and material to help form the protoform. The more you give me the stronger your influence on them will be."

"So short version, hard, fast, and don't hold things up any more," Wheeljack chuckled, kissing Skyfire and running his fingers along the cables leading up to his wings. He pressed his spike into his lover's valve, starting to thrust into him quickly; he could feel this wasn't the time for their usual foreplay.

Skyfire moaned and rocked his hips up, once more grateful that he'd had the foresight to have his valve size adjusted to suit his lover. His knees bent and drew up, changing the angle of penetration and rubbing the spike against new node clusters.

Wheeljack groaned, shifting to rub his spike against those nodes. He sped up his thrusts as he felt Skyfire was ready for it, giving in to the general frustration of the last months spent apart. It was only a few kliks before the charge building in his spike began to send jolts into his sensor net and along his main control pathways. His entire system tingled, Skyfire's EM field pushing him hard to overload.

It felt so good.

A part of Wheeljack's processors not fixated on filling his lover with transfluid cataloged the effects of being with a generative mech, comparing it against his expectations of interfacing with Skyfire.

This was so much more intense with the shuttle's systems pumping out signals to arouse him, drive him on.

Transfluid filled Skyfire as the charge building up inside Wheeljack overwhelmed him, arcing over him as he climaxed. Even as his systems were starting to recover, he started thrusting again, less and less aware with every thrust of anything outside of Skyfire's needs.

It felt so good, his pleasure heightened and sustained by Skyfire's EM field. He'd long since lost track of how many overloads he'd spilled into the shuttle's reproductive system when the wide, strong armor covering Skyfire's spark began to part. That familiar glittering blue spark called out to his to join it.

Wheeljack leaned back as his own armor slid open to expose his spark. The two glowing orbs reached out to each other, hungry for the union they'd been denied for so long, eager on another level entirely for something that Wheeljack didn't quite understand yet.

As their identities blurred, he started to understand it. He sensed, felt, memories that he hadn't experienced through Skyfire before, from the last two times this had happened.

Protocols cycling up to prepare him for new life being created inside his very chassis. The joy, unnameable and undefined, of _feeling_ new sparks light next to his. The drain on his spark that was its own kind of pleasure. The protocols capable of turning even the most surly and hateful of mechs into a dutiful creator, though for Skyfire they did little more than make him keenly aware of the time and his physical needs for energon and recharge.

More unfamiliar memories followed, of carrying and birthing two different clutches, one Seeker-sired and all but true Seekerlings, the other a pair of much larger triple-changers. These were memories that Wheeljack was at least faintly familiar with, but now he was getting them in much more detail. Raising the young Seekers, teaching them, being a parent... mostly memories that Wheeljack had his own counterparts to. The bittersweet remembrances of pride and happiness in their accomplishments as they grew.

The sorrow and pain that had always kept Wheeljack from delving too deeply into these memories, the pain of losing them long before their time from one cause or another, both before the war and during it. Another memory that Wheeljack was entirely too familiar with, and one that he hoped wouldn't be such a universal feeling for _this_ generation.

A lab accident, an explosion he was entirely too familiar with but without such a happy ending as the young blue and white scientist extinguished in his carrier's charred arms while his black and purple sire rushed for help.

The sensation of carrier-sparkling bonds snapping one by one as Skyfire lay, all but crushed himself, under the rubble of Vos as the five survivors of his clutch with the Winglord's trine were lost in the city's ruins or to the blasters of the Autobots who had destroyed the once-proud City of Seekers. The final sight of the last one, his darling Dreamfire, as she looked up in her pain from torn wings to meet bright blue optics of her executioner. A final act to ensure that the single mech she still had a connection to would bear witness to her bravery and her betrayer.

She had not been a warrior. None of his second clutch had been.

But the Autobot who fired into her spark was, along with his sire.

The agony that had broken Skyfire's spark for the longest time, witnessing one of his first clutch execute the last of his second clutch in the name of peace. A peace that hadn't lasted, an execution that hadn't needed to happen. The closest that the Autobots had come to simply erasing the Decepticons, no matter who else suffered in the process.

Wheeljack had never really agreed with it, and how it had backfired on them only proved his point. Yet he understood the point that had been attempted. Leveling a Neutral city was the same as leveling an Autobot one. There _had_ to be retaliation for Praxus and Vos was the softer of the two Decepticon capitol cities. But watching it happen, feeling Sky's memories of it all as though he'd been there, only served as a more pointed reminder of just how idiotic it had all been.

He tried to help pull Skyfire through it, towards less painful parts of his life. He could understand why Sky hadn't really wanted to go through this again the past times they'd spark-merged.

But he could also understand why he'd had to this time.

Skyfire didn't resist the guidance in the least, more than willing to allow his memories to drift to the joys of raising sparklings, both with and without their sire. Of thoughts of what this clutch might be like with Wheeljack as their sire.

Memories of Wheeljack's began to weave in as well. The fundamental differences between the ways they'd each become parents; the care and effort put into building a fully matured frame, even if it was for a mech he'd likely never see again. Building basic coding from the ground up, designing the processes that would shape how a new mech would see the world around him. The pride, wonder, and occasional frustrations of seeing a new life expand beyond what he'd had in mind at the time.

The anticipation, and apprehension, of knowing that he wouldn't have even that level of control over these next... children. The difference between thinking of them like that, and thinking of them like creations. Wondering what their personalities would be like, where their interests would lie. The quiet realization that, between Skyfire's love of exploring and his own thirst for information, they were almost certainly going to have their work cut out for them on _entirely_ new levels keeping the clutch out of trouble.

When the overload finally came, it was like nothing Wheeljack had felt before. When his systems finally came back online, he felt drained, tired, in a way that a normal spark merge just didn't do to him.

"You okay?" He asked Skyfire once he was capable of vocalizing something more than static.

"Yes," the shuttle murmured, his spark thrumming strong and joyful under his lover as he reached up to stroke Wheeljack's back. "They will definitely be a handful, and then some."

"I'll just have to start working on a remote retriever, I guess," Wheeljack joked. "Otherwise, we'll have to count on you, the Aerials, and Stormy to keep them from just flying off." He took a moment to materialize a couple of the cubes of energon he'd stored, offering one to Skyfire. "Think we could both use this," he added.

"Thank you," Skyfire smiled up at him warmly and accepted the cube. "Yes, it would be good to start working on that now. They should be able to fly within a decaorn of emerging and very, very hungry for knowledge," he snickered, memories of trying to manage other sparklings bright in his processors. "If I'm very, very lucky they'll be a gestalt."

"Oh Primus, I hadn't even thought of that," Wheeljack groaned. "And I know how to build _and_ program them, so it might just happen. Forget the remotes, I think we'll want a 'time-out' area on the moon first, if that happens."

A deep laugh rumbled up from Skyfire's chassis. "A Seeker-kin gestalt," he grinned brightly, his optics full of mirth and desire. "Might just give the Winglord a run for his rank."

"We'll give them time," Wheeljack chuckled, snuggling up against his lover. "For now, I think I need a little break."

"Yes, we will," Skyfire promised, his large hands still stroking his lover's back. "They'll have all the time we can give them."


	17. Coming To

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>:  
><strong>Rating<strong>:  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>text<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 17: Coming To<p>**

* * *

><p><strong>"They should be coming around soon,"<strong> Wheeljack reassured Ratchet as he knelt down next to the medical berth that they'd modified for the two kats after they were out of critical condition.

**"I'm still worried about Chance's vitals, he's not coming back up at the same rate Jake is,"** Ratchet grumbled.

**"That's because he's Chance,"** Wheeljack chuckled. **"If he woke up before Jake, they'd probably both have coronaries when they realized it. Stop fussing and try to relax, okay? If anything does go wrong, we can always bring Doctor Heit back up here. I made sure that he was aware we when were going to let them wake up again before Silverbolt took him back down, so he knows he's 'on call' right now."**

Ratchet merely humphed, but he backed up when Jake began to stir.

"Jake?" Wheeljack asked when the kat's brain waves showed lucidity.

"Yeah?" the kat slurred, still only half conscious.

"Any pain?"

"Nah, fine," he mumbled, still reluctant to open his eyes.

"Glad to hear it. Chance is fine too, though he's still waking up. You're on board the Ark," Wheeljack added, sure that would get Jake's attention enough to wake him up.

"Where?" Amber eyes snapped open, the pupils going wide as he tried to sit up.

"The Ark," Wheeljack said, reaching up with a clawed hand to pressing him back down gently. It didn't take much. The kat was still exhausted and not fully recovered.

**"You _had_ to wake him up like that, didn't you?**" Ratchet growled behind him.

**"Manners, Ratchet,**" Wheeljack chided him. "Jake, how much do you remember?" He asked him.

The kat groaned. "Seekers. We were fighting Seekers. Weren't doing half bad. Then ... now. We lost." The last bit was half question, half statement.

"You did, though your performance was still impressive," Wheeljack offered as Chance groaned softly, starting to wake up himself. "Stormshock went down after Starscream's nullifier took out her systems. The ejection system was affected too, I'm afraid, though even if it _had_ worked there wouldn't be any way to be sure the cockpit release would have. The Aerialbots were coming just as you were shot down, so Silverbolt managed to soften the landing a little bit. After they scared off the Elites, they brought you all up here for treatment."

"I want a rematch," Chance groaned as he started to wake up, not really coherent enough to have heard the rest of it yet.

"Not a chance," Ratchet said firmly. "We _just_ finished rebuilding Stormshock and putting Doctor Heit back down on Aristal. I'm not letting you three try to get yourselves killed again for at least a decaorn!"

"Which is how long?" Chance asked, still groggy.

"Just over eleven days," Wheeljack chuckled.

"No problem," the tabby groaned. "Don't want to move that soon."

"Give him a day or two and he'll change his mind," Jake snickered even as he took in the three mechs in the room with him. "So who are the new faces?"

"Ratchet, our CMO," Wheeljack said, introducing the surly, bulky mech, "and Prowl, our chief tactical officer. They were both in the briefing I gave you, but I'm not surprised you didn't recognize them. Ratchet's been working on getting Stormshock into her new frame, while Doctor Heit patched you two up. He's back planetside now, but let us know if anything doesn't feel right. We can get him back on board if we have to."

"I think all my bits are where they belong," Jake said with a soft sigh as a fresh dose of painkillers was automatically released into his system.

"So Cons are on Aristal," Chance managed to focus for a moment. "That mean you're coming out to everybody?"

"No," Prowl spoke, startling both kats slightly. "We will, however, begin to approach world governments about our existence. A processes your good word will be of assistance in."

"Govs hate us," Chance grumbled. "We're popular heroes, not political ones."

"With the _real_ leaders, you'd be surprised," Wheeljack chuckled. "Miss Briggs is a good example. And I suspect that Commander Feral is more fond of you than he says. You're also well respected abroad, as I'm sure you realize."

"We'll help with what we can," Jake murmured, the painkillers beginning to work him back into a drowsy rest. Not quite asleep, but no longer up to talking.

"Yeah, and thanks," Chance added, looking at his partner a little wistfully before closing his eyes. "We'll do what we can."

The mechs exchanged a glance before Ratchet shooed them all out of the room silently.

"I think we can let Stormshock wake up now." Wheeljack suggested.

"Now that we know we have good news for her," Ratchet agreed. "Come on, let's go. Her basic mech-form programming should have had a chance to take hold by now."

Wheeljack nodded and followed with Prowl, waiting as Ratchet brought her out of medical stasis, still in her jet form but now looking far more Cybertronian to their sensors.

"Welcome to the functioning, Stormshock," Ratchet greeted her.

"Ratchet ... crashing _sucks_," she said emphatically.

"So don't do it again," he told her bluntly.

"Berthside manner is not his strong suit," Wheeljack told her sympathetically. "Jake and Chance are fine, but resting right now. How are you feeling?"

"Weird?" she said uncertainly. "Like after Jake does a full rebuilt, but ten times worse. I'm not sure what half the gears and programs in me do."

"A lot of those are so that you can handle things like walking; they should load automatically when you need them. Do you think you're up for seeing your new selves?" Wheeljack asked her gently. "The jet we can do with a mirror, but you'll have to transform to see yourself as a mech. I can help, but we'd like you to try on your own first. It'll help us know if the auto-loaders are working properly."

"Okay," she said, ever willing to dive right in and just try new things. With far too little concern she 'asked' her new software to transform her.

Wheeljack stepped back as her body started to reconfigure itself, rising up into its humanoid shape.

"I'd been thinking of giving you a few minutes first, but starting out right away works too," he chuckled.

"I _am_ a SWAT Kat," Stormshock giggled, her feline features twitching as her face came into view.

Wheeljack made a mental note that she needed better facial control protocols for her form and a _lot_ more practice at using them. She wasn't giving the expressions that matched her EM field or her words.

Then his attention was focused on keeping her upright as she swayed on two slightly splayed pedes.

"Maybe," he chuckled, "but you _will_ need some time to get used to this. You've got the protocols, but you're in fairly new territory to us. Most mechs are native to their biped form, not their vehicle one, so you'll need a while to get used to it.

**"Can you understand me like this?"** He asked her, once she was steady again.

**"Yes,"** she nodded, spreading her pedes a bit more to add to her stability. The stance was unnatural, and in most warriors would signal a fight coming, but for now she was just trying to remain vertical. **"I understand. I'm used to three points of contact with the ground too."**

She considered what was around her, taking in her environment with all the native curiosity of youth as Wheeljack gradually reduced his support and let her stand on her own. Wings and whiskers twitched, taking in subtle air currents.

After a lingering moment, her optics focused on the other mechs. **"Prowl, Ratchet."**

**"Hello, Stormshock,"** Prowl nodded.

**"We thought it would be a good idea to install Cybertronian language protocols for you,"** Ratchet explained. **"If nothing else, it'll mean that you can understand us in the field when there's a fight going and we don't think about what language to use."**

**"And you'll know what he's calling you the next time you're in the repair bay,"** Wheeljack quipped.

**"Slang and cussing's included too?"** She giggled, digging into the protocols by tag. **"Cool. How long until my crew is ready to fly again?"**

**"I told you we should've limited the vocabulary,"** Ratchet grumbled.

**"It could be worse. We could've borrowed Jazz's protocols,"** Prowl chuckled lowly.

**"The last thing we need is another mech around here speaking Praxian half the time!"** Ratchet growled. **"And those two won't be flying combat for a decaorn, at least, if I have anything to say about it. You shouldn't be either,"** he added promptly, knowing that would be her next thought.

**"Week and a half off, who's covering for us?"** she focused on Prowl.

**"Well, that depends on whether or not you want to give Feral a coronary,"** Wheeljack snickered. **"Though I probably already know the answer to that one."**

Prowl shook his head, venting a sigh. **"The Aerialbots are on call in case of a real emergency. Something that threatens more than property,"** he explained. **"The only question is whether or not we're going to go ahead and paint them in SWAT colors before sending them in. Intel's suggestion, though I doubt it's one made entirely for Intel's usual reasons,"** he said dryly.

**"You've been with Jazz _how_ long and you still haven't figured out that tweaking the tailpipes of people who play by the rules _is_ one of the usual reasons?"** Wheeljack teased.

Prowl's retort was cut off by Stormshock's giggles increasing in volume. **"I'm starting to like Jazz and I haven't even met him. He sounds like Chance."**

**"Chance's sense of humor, with Jake's attitude towards people who try to hurt what he protects. He's busy in Sayden Bay right now, but you'll meet him sooner or later. Fortunately, he's stopped growling at me when he hears about you three,"** Wheeljack added.

She snickered again. **"Sorry, but _everybody_ in charge growls when we come up. Except Callie. She gets wet. She just doesn't realize they're both taken."**

**"Well, no surprise that she found _that_ part of the lexicon fast,"** Wheeljack chuckled. **"Feeling up to looking around the ship a bit, getting used to your legs? You might be able to use your tail to help you balance, by the way, that's not something we have much experience with. Your systems'll have to come up with the code on how to do it on their own, mostly."**

**"Sounds good,"** she grinned at him before turning her attention inward to work out how her tail moved. The tip twitched, then slowed to a sway that gradually worked its way up the length until the entire appendage was in motion. She stilled it after a moment, content with her control, and focused on getting one foot in front of the other while keeping her balance.

**"If you'd rather speak Katian, we can,"** Wheeljack told her as he stayed nearby in case of a slip. **"And don't worry about supporting yourself as you walk, either. Your claws can't hurt anything important unless you're trying to, up here."**

"It would be simpler, for me," she said with a grateful brush of her field against his and got two more steps towards the door. "There's a _lot_ to pay attention to, even just the list of stuff not to worry about yet."

"I understand," he nodded. "You don't have to take all the new information in through your optics, by the way," he added. "Just think about it, and you can back a lot of the information off so it'll come in the way you're used to getting sensor data."

She glanced at him, then gave a sheepish brush of her field that her facial expression was beginning to match better. Another pause in movement as she tried to think the dataflow back to what she was more accustomed to. The flow of air over plating, the gentle pings of passive radar and sonar, the slightly more detailed readouts of the periodic active pulse she sent out. She relaxed as data began to falloff the visual feed.

"It'll override if anything really important comes up, but you'll be more comfortable with this," Wheeljack chuckled. "Don't worry about it. Remember, you're getting used to an entirely new body, and everybody knows it. You've got one of our more advanced sensor suites too. Not up to Prowl's battle computer, but we had a lot of surface area to work stuff into, and we made good use of it. If you need help keeping things under control, just ping me on your comm and I can patch in to help you with it."

"Will do," she promised and began to walk again, gradually becoming more fluid. By the time she reached the door she had her tail in motion again and was using it for balance.

"Just remember to look both ways before you head out into the hall," Wheeljack chuckled. "Low flying Blurrs can be a regular travel hazard, from time to time."

"You'd think they'd have learned to watch out with the low flying UFOs I understand come out of this door," she snickered, but did pause when the door opened, and a good thing. Her reflexes got their first test as she had to jump back when a tumble of three winged mechs fell forward at her. It spoke to her nature and her history that both arms came up with cannons charged and target lockedm but she didn't fire.

"Stormshock, the big white one is Silverbolt. The black one Air Raid and the red and white is Fireflight. Three of the Aerialbots," Wheeljack chuckled as the three young fliers scrambled to get to their feet and took in the flared wings and gradually relaxing stance of their newest 'sibling'.

"Umm, hi," Fireflight was the first to recover. "Didn't mean to startle you, Bumblebee was supposed to warn us to step back, but hi, like Jack said, I'm Fireflight," he stuck his hand out to her in the most common greeting in Megakat City.

"Hi," Stormshock regarded him warily for a moment before shrugging her wings and accepting the handshake. "Am I _really_ that big a news story?"

"Well, you _are_ the reason they're not the youngest mechs on board anymore," Wheeljack chuckled.

"Like age makes that big a difference anymore," Air Raid huffed. "We just wanted to make sure you were coming out of that crash all right. You've got some _serious_ steel taking on the Elites on your own," he said approvingly.

"It's my job," she demurred, though it was impossible to miss how much she was preening inside by her EM field at the praise. "Thanks though. It's nice to finally meet another jet."

"There aren't many of us, on this side of the war," Air Raid admitted. "Come on, we'll introduce you to the other two. Skydive and Slingshot should be back from patrol pretty soon, and if your organics aren't up just yet, Skydive won't be busy chatting with them yet."

"They won't be up for at least six more joor," Ratchet supplied.

"More like eight, if I know my kats," Stormshock giggled and stepped forward cautiously. "This walking business is still a little odd," she told the Aerialbots sheepishly.

"Heh, don't worry about it," Fireflight chuckled, saddling up to her side and gently brushing his wing against hers. "We were in the same boat, when we got sparked. We hadn't even had minds before then, let alone legs and everything to go with them."

"Sounds a little like my life. Started as a non-sentient jet. Was upgraded to a viable AI. Worked my way up to full self-awareness. Now I'm ... not really a jet anymore," she shifted to nuzzle his helm before taking another step, each move writing protocols and filling her with data on how to move, and move efficiently.

"Well, you're still a jet, just a jet with options," he said with a friendly EM pulse. "We weren't really self-aware until we got sparked, ourselves, but it sounds pretty similar. So, how do you like having legs?"

"Yes, a jet with options," she grinned at him. "It's a little weird, but the hands that come _with_ the legs I've wanted since I figured out what they were."

"Okay you lot, stop blocking the doorway!" Ratchet bellowed at the jets and gawkers. "Take her down to the rec room and get her some _mild grade_."

"Yes, sir," Silverbolt said sheepishly, starting away from the door.

::We'll start you on mild grade, see how you like it before we move up a notch or two,:: Air Raid promised her with a quiet snicker as the group moved off, pinging Slingshot and Skydive to meet them there.

It was an understandably but annoyingly slow walk, at least as far as Stormshock was concerned, and the _looks_ she got she had no real clue how to interpret. She knew kats, but ... these weren't kats, weren't even from Aristal. Friendlies, she'd been assured often, but she didn't _know_ them. She couldn't tell curiosity from annoyance from pity from interest. All she was reasonably confident of was picking up on aggression, but even that wasn't a sure thing.

"You feeling all right?" Silverbolt asked her gently as they walked along, picking up on her nerves and tension. "We could find you somewhere a little more private too."

"I'm fine," she assured the significantly taller but lighter built mech, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth and arching her whiskers forward. "There's just a lot of social information that isn't all that well integrated yet." She paused, spotting a pair of matching frames, one a gleaming, rich bronze and the other shining silver. Only their helm adornments were noticeably different. "Not that sure what I'm seeing, or what mechs want me to see in their looks."

"You'll pick up on it," he reassured her. "It'll just take some time."

The silver and bronze mechs both looked over at her, and she didn't have a hard time reading their expressions, at least. Challenge mixed with a little curiosity; it was apparently an almost universal expression. She lifted her wings in pure reflex to the challenge, but took it no further while Silverbolt lead her to the opposite side of the rec room, and the larger than most, armless chairs with a single strut as the back; chairs built for fliers.

"I'll go grab the energon, while you guys get her settled in," Fireflight offered.

"Thanks," she said to the departing red Aerial and sat down with more care that the older mechs. She not just had to watch out for her wings, but her tail and keeping all the bits she wasn't 100% sure of from getting crushed. The seats may be designed for her build but that didn't mean it was a natural movement. **"What are your orn like?"** she asked, switching to Cybertronian for the practice now that she had the processor power to spare.

**"A lot of hurry-up and wait,"** Air Raid groused. **"We get out on patrol regularly enough, and that's a good time to practice, but when the 'Cons aren't showing up so we can kick their afts it's mostly training and keeping the Ark up. Probably a lot like your days, from what we've heard,"** he added.

**"That sounds right. Practice, practice, practice, and the occasional call to action,"** she nodded. **"Plus a _lot_ of downtime while Jake worked on me, they slept or did their cover jobs. So you probably had more to do than I did. I only got to fly solo once in a while."**

**"Well, with the 'Cons turning up, that might just change,"** Silverbolt told her. **"We don't know how active they're going to be, or how long it'll take for the rest of them to reach Aristal, assuming they haven't already."**

**"I'd say they were probably out looking for Ratchet's favorite patient,"** Air Raid pointed out. **"It'd explain why he was so beat up. Also means there's good odds he at least _was_ one of them at one point in time."**

**"We won't know until Ratchet can get him repaired enough to pull an ID ping out of his systems,"** Silverbolt said patiently. **"Not to change the subject, Stormshock, but have you had energon before? I know Wheeljack and Perceptor were working on something that'd give them a bit they could use for you, but I don't know if they got it finished or got Jake to put it into you yet."**

**"It was installed last week, but it was all internal,"** she explained as best she could. **"I've never had anything the way you fuel. It went directly into my tank for use or conversion. Wheeljack did like to talk about it though,"** she said helpfully. **"Not just the grade but all the additives, flavorings, brands and blends ... and that there are only a handful left, all but the mild and midgrade being homebrew on some level."**

**"Sounds like Wheeljack on the subject,"** Air Raid chuckled. **"Between him and Sideswipe you've got the only two mechs who can make a passable imitation of Vossian. Well, and Ironhide,"** he added.

**"Yeah, but Ironhide's is _definitely_ off-limits,"** Silverbolt said firmly. **"No matter how well she takes to the others. You remember what happened the last time you and Slingshot tried to sneak some of it out."**

**"That's just because they forgot to ask first,"** Fireflight grinned as he came back over with a dimly glowing cube for Stormshock, and some more brightly glowing and darker purple ones for the rest of them. **"Be careful not to spill it, even the mild stuff'll strip the paint right off you,"** he warned her as he passed it over.

"Gotcha," she nodded and accepted the cube. She simply held it, studied it, as she dug around for the protocols for how to consume this. She knew _they_ drank it, much like how kats drank milk, but she wasn't about to assume she had the same rules until she found them in her own systems.

After a few moments searching she was able to find it; drinking it would work, her throat apparently hooked up to her fuel tanks from here. Her usual systems were attached to reserve fuel tanks now ... it all made sense, when she took time to think it over. Standard fuel could go into the reserves, to be converted to energon, while her primary tanks would mostly take it straight.

Carefully, she took a sip. Despite the way the older mechs drank from the flat side, the corner was much easier to not spill from. The liquid energy flowed over her tongue _glossa_ and tingled, a prickling sensation as it slid down her throat _intake_. It wasn't taste, not the way she imagined taste was like from TV adds and her kats talking, but it was something. Maybe what taste meant to these people.

Again, it made sense; information that her systems could process, quantifiable information that could be translated through her logic systems. Whatever sense it was, the charge that flowed through her as her body got a proper amount of fuel felt _good_. It was like getting her tanks filled up from near-empty, only about a hundred times more intense. She could pick up the faint 'flavor' of an inert chemical mixed in with it, probably the difference between the mid-grade that the Aerialbots were drinking and what she had. Two more flight-frame mechs came into the rec room to join them after fetching some energon for themselves.

**"Hello,"** she greeted them with a flick of her wings and slow sway of her ever-moving tail. **"Skydive, Slingshot, yes?"**

**"That's us,"** the black, red and white one, Skydive, grinned at her. **"Finally escaped the Hatchet?"**

**"Only temporarily,"** Silverbolt chuckled. **"She has to go back in a few joor. She only on-lined three breems ago."**

**"And my crew is there,"** she added, her tail flicking sharply along with her large triangular ears.

**"They're still resting, but they're going to be fine,"** Skydive promised her. **"I checked in on them earlier, figured you'd like to know."**

**"Interested in taking a spin around the system before you have to head back?"** Slingshot asked her easily. **"Stretch your wings a bit, and get away from the ground-pounders for a while?"**

The term made her giggle and grin at him, her rich gold visor glowing brightly. **"Oh _yes_,"** came out as much purr as words. The prospect got her to focus on her energon, and the Aerialbots let her by chatting amongst themselves.

**"And what's wrong with the ground-pounders?"** The silver mech from earlier asked as he skated over with his bronze twin.

**"Lighten up, Sideswipe, you know he didn't mean anything about it, and she didn't either,"** Silverbolt said, turning to face the two mechs half his size.

Stormshock cocked her head, her large ears and long tail twitching much like her crew's would. Half curious, half in defensive threat, she let the flight leader do his job. It was only in that moment that it registered that she _did_ think of them as ... ... ... flight ... flock ... such odd terms. Even odder that she already felt he _was_ in charge, he was her squadron leader and she felt far more obedient to him than she'd ever felt to anyone but her crew.

**"Why don't you let them tell us that?"** Sunstreaker challenged him.

**"Because you two both know I'm right, and you're just looking to pick a fight. And while I wouldn't mind letting you burn off your high-grade getting slagged out by Ratchet don't want any of my wing down there with you. If you want to see how she flies, then watch her on a patrol and wait until she's used to being a mech before you try getting her in the sparring chambers."**

**"Too bad we don't have space for flying,"** Stormshock mused, her wings flaring in a playful challenge with her ears up and forward. **"I know how to be a jet."**

**"Who says we don't?"** Sideswipe asked with what she thought was a broad, smirking grin. **"Gotta have somewhere to practice our jet-fu."**

**"If you so much as scratch her paintjob, Ratchet's gonna have all our hides,"** Silverbolt pointed out.

**"You want her to be scared of him already?"** Sunstreaker teased. **"We'll be gentle with her."**

She focused on Silverbolt. **"Does that mean I have to be gentle with them?"**

**"Nothing that'll put any of you in for repairs, please?"** Silverbolt groaned.

**"Don't worry,"** Air Raid grinned, **"I'll go in to keep an eye on her. Besides, you two wouldn't want a reputation for ganging up on an innocent young jet for a simple sparring match, would you?"** He asked the two soldiers.

**"Psh, be happy to take you all on, as long as you don't go pulling Superion out on us,"** Sunstreaker snorted. **"Ratchet getting slagged off is one thing, but if we dent his pet Combiner, I wouldn't be able to touch up my paint until Wheeljack had cooled down."**

**"You are _on_,"** Slingshot grinned, his wings twitching in vicious anticipation.

**"What's the fun in six against two?"** Stormshock tried to pout. **"And a couple of grounders at that."**

**"Slingshot, she's right, let's keep it at even odds. Air Raid and Stormshock against the two of them should be fine, _and_ it'll keep them from bitching about being outnumbered when they're trounced,"** Skydive pointed out.

**"As if they stand a chance,"** Sunstreaker growled, flaring his armor out in a challenge Stormshock recognized clearly and responded to in kind.

**"Enough, both of you,"** Silverbolt found his backstrut and flared both armor and wings wide in a demand of obedience, all with the purpose of stopping the posturing before it turned violent in the rec room. **"Air Raid, Slingshot and Stormshock against Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They can bitch later if they want, but she is a _joor old hatching_. I will _not_ permit her to be treated as a full fledged Autobot warrior until she is one."**

**"I'm older than that,"** Stormshock objected, though not enough as to be considered a direct challenge.

**"You only became self-aware five years ago, sparked _maybe_ four,"** Silverbolt reminded her.

**"That's less than a _metacycle_ you two,"** a deep voice rumbled the very air behind and above the pair, drawing all attention pale blue Seeker standing behind the tyre-peded frontliners.

**"Cybertronian month,"** Fireflight piped up helpfully. **"And he's Dogfight, head of Aerial operations,"** he added, catching Stormshock's wide-opticked stare at the commanding Seeker.

Her wings fluttered, dipped in instinctive submission coupled with desire when the large mech smiled at her.

**"It is good to have another combat Aerial on the force,"** Dogfight rumbled, his engines purring a low greeting she replied to in kind without thinking.

~Well, her social protocols are working _just_ fine now,~ Air Raid observed over the gestalt bond, amused.

~Shush, focus on making sure she doesn't get hurt during the match, all right?~ Silverbolt told him. ~Makes sense though. She's integrating Seeker social protocols faster.~

~Right, right, we'll cover her tail as much as she'll let us,~ Air Raid promised.

~We'll _all_ look out for her,~ Fireflight added with a fierceness usually reserved for protecting gestalt-mates.

**"Fly, spar?"** Stormshock prodded the group when it seemed like no one wanted to move.

**"If you'll excuse us, Commander?"** Silverbolt asked politely, finishing his energon and standing up, his wings tipped respectfully. **"Or would you like to come watch the match?"** He offered.

**"Oh, I intend to watch,"** the pale blue Seeker grinned, waving his wings lightly in encouragement to Stormshock with a click and whistle that marked her as a hatchling, a warning to all that he'd protect her with his very spark if need be.

**"Come on then,"** Sunstreaker grumbled at the flyer love-fest that was building. It wasn't lost on him that the newest flyer, gloss black with red and gold markings, followed nearly as fast as Sideswipe, or that her movements were shadowed by the Aerials.

* * *

><strong>"Would somebody care to explain why Stormshock is sparring with our two resident psychopaths?"<strong> Ratchet growled as he entered the observation room for Sparring Chamber 3, where the match had been going on for the last few minutes before he'd been pinged by a particularly rough takedown on Slingshot.

**"She wanted to,"** Dogfight didn't take his optics off the combat. **"She's doing very well too,"** he added with a hum of strong approval.

Every other mech in the room had the sense to shrink away and try to make themselves as small a target as possible.

**"And when she _stops_ getting lucky, I'm going to end up having to repair a frame she still doesn't know how to _walk_ in correctly,"** Ratchet pointed out. **"Whose idea was this?"**

**"Technically, sir, somewhere between the Twins and hers,"** Silverbolt told her. **"I made sure the others went in there to keep her from being injured seriously."**

A flash of bronze caught their attention and _everyone_ stared as Sunstreaker landed on her back, only to find himself smashed between her and a hardlight generated building as she flew strait up only a hand span away from the shattering glass.

**"_My_ point,"** Ratchet growled, even as he was inwardly impressed and pleased that she had reflexes to scrape off anything that latched onto her. **"Shut it down or I go in."**

**"Yes sir,"** Silverbolt said quietly, pinging the system to announce the sim was about to shut down.

::Stormshock, Ratchet's having us shut everything down, don't smash anybody against the actual walls if you can help it,:: he warned her.

::Gotcha,:: she veered into open space, not that Sunstreaker was still holding on. He'd lost his fight with the building stories below. ::That was fun. I don't think they're used to fighting a jet used to fighting things like them.::

::They aren't,:: he chuckled. ::Just be ready to get yelled at by Ratchet. Most of it's going to be directed at the Twins, me, and Dogfight, but you'll probably catch a bit of it.::

::Always do,:: she accepted it in good humor and smoothly VTOL landed in alt mode before carefully transforming with Air Raid and Slingshot close by.

**"She knows you're coming, but she _wasn't_ hurt all that much,"** Silverbolt pointed out to Ratchet, glancing at the display. **"Twins got them on points, but not by their usual margin,"** he added, mostly to himself.

**"She'd be a Windlord if she'd been born a Seeker,"** Dogfight added softly, his tone openly admiring. **"For a hatchling of any age to have such instincts is amazing. A spark to be protected and trained to lead flights."**

Ratchet just huffed and stalked into the room. A glance confirmed what he expected. Slingshot had the worst of it, his right wing bent and dented from the crash. Sunstreaker was the next worst off, mostly from his little trip through the building.

Stormshock ... she was flat out unrepentant and her wings, tail and ears were twitching with excess energy.

**"Kept her from getting banged up, just like we were supposed to,"** Slingshot pointed out with a half-grin. **"Oh, and before you ask, we _did_ keep her to the mild-grade. She's just this crazy on her own."**

**"I guessed as much,"** Ratchet grumbled. **"And who was it that did that to you?"** He asked him, indicating the damaged wing. Slingshot glanced back at it and shrugged slightly.

**"Must have landed poorly,"** he said nonchalantly. Ratchet vented his frustration audibly, his chassis hissing as the hot air escaped from it. A part of him, a very small part, granted, was almost proud to see he wasn't going to try pointing the medic's ire at the Twins. It was obvious that one of them, probably Sideswipe, had bent it in the course of the takedown that had gotten him pinged, but a rough landing was a good enough explanation for most.

**"All right, Slingshot, Stormshock, and Sunstreaker, you're all coming with me to medical until I get you checked out. You two,"** he said, glaring at Sideswipe and Air Raid, **"if I find any more serious damage I'm going to make sure you're both scrubbing the medical bay with nanobrushes for the next decaorn. Together,"** he added.

**"I'm not that damaged,"** Sunstreaker pointed out. **"I'll be fine after I've had a chance to fix up -"**

**"_I'll_ tell you how badly damaged you are,"** Ratchet countered. **"So unless you want more dents to buff out, no back talk."**

Stormshock snickered at the exchange, but silenced, mostly, when Ratchet shook his wrench threateningly at her. She still wasn't perfectly steady on her pedes and she was getting a better grasp on how her tail balanced her, but reminded once more of her true nature it was her wings that did most of the work to balance her on the trek to medbay.

**"You two, over there while I work on Slingshot's wing,"** Ratchet told her and Sunstreaker, pointing them towards an empty pair of medical berths. **"And leave the other patient be,"** he added as Stormshock noticed what her systems identified as a spark chamber and cortex floating in a tank of energon.

**"Who's that?"** she asked and sat as directed. **"What happened?"**

**"Don't know who, but what is the Elite trine ... the jets that shot you down,"** Ratchet said as he worked. **"At least at best guess. He's going to be down a long time."**

**"Oh, the mech Jack rescued from Jake,"** she nodded.

**"Right,"** Ratchet nodded. **"There's a new protoform growing for him, but it's going to take time to be at a stage where it can support the rest."**

**"So, where'd you learn to fly like that?"** Sunstreaker asked her.

She grinned at him, her wings flicking happily along with her ever-mobile tail. **"Mostly from Chance, my pilot. A _lot_ of our opponents like to fight the way you do."**

**"Just means we're going to have to come up with some new tricks. The 'Cons might not have you on their side, but they'll figure it out if they ever see you do that to one of their grounders. Not that most of 'em have the brains to think of it,"** he snorted.

**"Or they watch me against any of the critters that made me pick it in the first place,"** she flicked her tail. **"If you stay on Aristal, you'll never be short of things to fight, and you'll need new tricks every time."**

**"Oh, we've been revving our engines for decaorn looking to get into some of those fights,"** he grinned wickedly. **"Especially that 'Dark Kat' guy. Some of his ships look like _real_ fun to take down."**

**"Oh, they're a trip,"** she snickered. **"Half magic, half tech. The real grief comes from Dr. Viper and PastMaster. Bio warfare and pure magic."**

**"Bio warfare? Nothing in the records we have indicate... you mean something different,"** he guessed, pinging her comm with a datafile. **"What's in there isn't pretty, you'll want to stick to the encyclopedic records."**

**"I doubt it can be much worse than what I've met first-hand,"** she said even as she dug around the new file, incorporating it with her existing definitions. **"Genetic warfare is probably a better definition,"** she decided after a few moments.

**"Subcategory of bio warfare,"** Ratchet said. **"Directed mutations mixed with accelerated cell replacement so they take hold in an individual's body in kliks rather than generations."**

**"Yeah, that,"** Stormshock nodded. **"Plenty on the news about it ... doesn't come close to having my pilot taken."**

**"I'll bet it doesn't, though it looks like he's fine now,"** Sunstreaker pointed out. **"So they've figured out a way to fix it?"**

**"Yeah,"** she shivered, her wings twitching in remembered distress. **"He still tried to eat Jake first, and kept eating flies for months afterwards. And I was stuck at the bottom of six stories worth of mutagin swamp water for most of it. I could tell what was going on, but I couldn't _do_ anything."**

**"Ugh, now _there's_ a nightmare and a half,"** Sunstreaker said with a bit of a shudder. **"How often does something like that happen around here?"**

**"Major Omega events? Once every month or two,"** she said easily. **"Most aren't that bad, at least not for me, but there's a _reason_ I've gone through six frames in as many years."**

**"I was thinking more like flooding the city,"** he chuckled lightly. **"Most of the Omegas here are things we've handled before. Giant ships and insane mechs are pretty typical for us. Even the 'magic' stuff that's been reported is the sort of thing we've handled before. But things like this Doctor Viper, they're going to be trickier, especially if Prime decides we have to play gently with his monsters."**

Stormshock made a grumbling noise that Ratchet recognized as her vocalizer's version of a kat's thoughtful purr. **"Probably will,"** she warned him. **"Most used to be people and can be again. Or at least used to be innocent animals. Dr. Viper pokes his head up every couple years, about half as often as Dark Kat. He only flooded the city that once, I think."**

**"Well, at least he doesn't turn up that often. Here's hoping he decides to team up with the 'Cons some time, gives us an excuse to get rid of him for good,"** Sunstreaker grumbled. **"Sounds like he's going to be a real pain in the aft."**

**"He is, and don't count on it,"** she arched her wings in a wide, easy circle to stretch joints still stiff in newness. **"If it's not a mutant, he wants nothing to do with it."**

**"Don't put it past Megatron to consider it, just for the sake of having a new toy to play with,"** Ratchet commented, proving that he was paying attention to what they were saying as he made the last weld on Slingshot's wing. **"All right, quit taking up berth space, and make sure that you 'land' more gently in the future,"** he said, leaning back to let Slingshot up and out. **"I see you in here often enough as it is for mechanical errors on that alt of yours. Stormshock, you're up next."**

**"Yes, sir,"** she responded, hopping down with relative ease to take Slingshot's place. Without being asked to she unlocked all the control surfaces and spread her wings wide for inspection.

**"At least you know how to cooperate,"** he muttered. **"Going to have to work on listening, but one step at a time. It looks like the gouges in your wings are the worst, but that's nothing that shouldn't smooth out with a little nano-gel,"** he decided after running a few detailed scans. **"Does anything feel off?"**

**"No, sir,"** she responded, trying not to fan her wings on reflex at the question. **"Everything seems to be working."**

**"All right,"** he said, applying the reparative gel to her wings to fill in the gouges and bond with her surface. **"You'll need to get your paint touched up later, but that's outside of what I handle. Try to stay out of the sparring rooms for a while, I don't want you back in here until your friends are awake!"** He told her sternly.

There was a tremor along her wings, her tail flicked unhappily, though it showed most blatantly in her field at the range Ratchet was at. Still, the "Yes, sir," she gave was one she intended to keep and that showed too.

**"You can still fly, just stay out of trouble,"** he told her, intentionally softening his general tone. **"Go on, I'll patch up Sunstreaker once you're out."**

She nodded quickly, her whiskers sweeping forward as she offered him a smile and slipped off the berth to escape medbay.


	18. A Team Once More

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>:  
><strong>Rating<strong>:  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>"Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>text<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 18: A Team Once More<p>**

* * *

><p>Jake opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings once more and coming to a rather startling conclusion: he hadn't been hallucinating before. Around his bed, at a respectful distance, were Wheeljack, Ratchet and a new face that was as recognizable to him as the markings on her frame.<p>

"Stormshock," he smiled up at the being he had come to consider his daughter even before she could look him in the eyes. "Good to see you walking."

"It's good to be walking, and flying ... and see you _awake_," she purred, her voice a match for the one she'd had before but even more resonant and complex.

"Keep it quiet when you go down t'th'lab," Chance muttered, shifting onto his side, having long ago settled into regular sleep rather than the half-unconsciousness of the past few days.

"Don't worry, the lab is far away from medbay," Wheeljack chuckled. "Feeling better?"

"Whuh?" Chance muttered, looking back up as he let himself be pulled more into the world of the waking. "Whoa," he murmured, looking around the room. "Okay, so that all really did happen, I guess. Stormshock?" He asked, looking over at the felinoid mech.

"Yap," she grinned down at him, her whiskers quivering, tail flicking nervously and wings lifting in greeting. "We hit pretty hard. It was easier to finish building my new frame than try to fix my last one."

"They remember a cockpit with controls that actually work?" He asked, half-joking.

"Yap, same ones Jake designed for the next upgrade," she giggled. "Which does mean you have to learn to fly me again."

"They aren't _that_ big an upgrade!" Jake objected with a grin. "They aren't the neurolink controls I wanted to install."

"I'm still worried about what would happen if we suggested that Chance get a neural link installed," Wheeljack joked. "He _does_ still know his way around a wrench and arc welder, after all."

"And don't you forget it ... who's keeping things up back at the shop, while we're out?" He asked.

"A couple of Blaster's symbiots are down there to handle the civilian work," Wheeljack chuckled. "Seems that Eject and Ramhorn annoyed Prowl last week. The SWAT duties are being handled by Silverbolt's team."

"Ramhorn is in the Yard?" Jake paled. "Do I have a Yard _left_?"

"Of course," Ratchet assured with a huff. "Mech knows he's all yours if he damages the place."

"And he's small enough for us to actually handle him," Chance chuckled lowly, sitting up in the medical berth. "Though damages to Burke and Murray's truck ... eh, nah, that'd get too much attention pointed our way."

"Mechanical rhinoceros attacks dump truck... yeah, that's a little difficult to brush off even in Megakat City," Wheeljack said dryly. "Maybe in Veldt, if he had a proper holo-matrix, but that's another story."

"They're not trying to run the Yard as mechs are they?" Chance focused briefly.

"They have a kat look," Ratchet informed them. "How are you two feeling?"

"Stiff, trying to play mental catch-up at being alive, but mostly good," Jake summarized it.

"And at the fact that we actually _are_ on board a spaceship that we didn't build," Chance added. "How long before we can head back down? And has anybody found the one of those three jets we shot down?"

"Not for the first time, but the longest stay," Jake chuckled.

"Skywarp wasn't critically damaged," Stormshock summarized. "Escaped with his trine."

"Figures," Chance muttered. "Definitely want a rematch, especially now that we're on an even playing field."

"What?" Ratchet squawked, trying to figure out how Chance could possibly be calling them against the Elites an even playing field, even now.

"Sure thing," the tabby grinned up at him. "Three against three."

"Don't look at me!" Stormshock held her hands up and backed away from the medic. "I'm just the wings around here."

"They are in for a shock, now that we have a jet they can't outfly," Jake grinned at his partner, then Stormshock. "It'll be down to the pilot again."

"And gunner," Chance said pointedly. "And I never said I wanted the rematch _right away,_" he added to placate Ratchet. "Crazy, not stupid."

"I don't think he believes you," Stormshock snickered. "Medic wants to be out of work."

"Maybe, but _he's_ not the medic I'm worried about," Chance snickered.

"Yeah, Doc was pretty clear last time he patched us up that if we ever called him twice in the same month again, he'd consider some 'elective surgery' to settle him down," Jake laughed.

"He'd cut Chance's balls off," Stormshock elaborated at the blank look Ratchet gave the statement.

Ratchet let out a squawk of static at the thought, before Wheeljack chuckled.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you haven't threatened to do the same thing to the Twins before. By the way, Stormy, congrats on holding your own as well as you did against them. Wish I could have seen that."

"Thanks," she grinned. "I'm sure it was recorded, unless they deleted it to avoid the shame."

"So, now that everyone is awake, are you ready to speak to Prime?" Ratchet asked, regarding the three evenly. "He's looking forward to meeting you."

"We should probably get cleaned up and dressed first," Chance suggested, snapping into the frame of thought around meeting a ranking officer. "At least into something more suitable than medical drabs."

"Of course," Wheeljack responded quickly and offered his hands to the pair. "Silverbolt brought back some clothing and grooming supplies when he dropped Rewind and Ramhorn off."

"Let's go then," Chance nodded, first glancing down to see the distance to the floor before he decided to take the offered hand after all. "Where we headed?"

"We retrofitted part of Stormshock's quarters to be suitable for you," Wheeljack explained as the kats climbed onto his cupped hands. "Including a water-based washrack similar to the hanger's."

"So what do you guys usually use?" Chance asked as they were carried out, not quite sure what the alternative would be.

"Various solvents and detergents that would probably strip your fur off, at least," Wheeljack explained. "Would you two be more comfortable if I went to my alt-form?"

"Fine by me," Jake said.

"I'm not _that_ coordinated yet," Stormshock pointed out from behind him. "Walking is as fast as I go."

"I'll be okay up here, just warn me before anything sudden," Chance decided.

"I was just thinking it would be more comfortable for them," Wheeljack explained to Stormshock. "It's not that far, we'll be there soon."

"We're good," Jake added, more than a little fascinated by the perspective. "We're both used to being in the air after all. How long before we can get back to Aristal?"

"Well, Ratchet's going to want to keep Stormshock around for about a decaorn before he signs off on everything being okay with the new chassis and new protocols," Wheeljack told him easily. "You guys can probably go back down after meeting Prime, maybe a few hours more just to make sure you'll be okay on re-entry. But there shouldn't be too much trouble with that. Putting a non-Cybertronian spark into a mostly Cybertronian frame is another matter entirely. Especially since he still has to schedule a full test run of her new systems."

"He probably doesn't want to see me back because I decided to fight in mech mode without knowing how," Stormshock chuckled. "I think Ironhide and Dogfight might have a few things to say on that count too."

"Isn't Dogfight the one you were cooing over? The pale blue Seeker?" Jake grinned up at her.

"Yeah, he's better in person too," she grinned back, her engines revving eagerly.

"Just remember that I'm going to need a while to get to the idea of my _jet_ dating," Chance said, shaking his head slightly.

"At least you don't think of her as your kitten," Jake snickered at his lover and partner.

"At least she's got good taste," Wheeljack pointed out. "If Starscream goes down, Dogfight's most likely to become Winglord."

"Which will radically change the war, since most Seekers would defect to the Autobots to follow the new Winglord," she said somewhat randomly, her database-vocalizer inhibitor still very limited. "Don't know what he thinks of me though, beyond being a ... hatchling."

::It's the reason that Intel rates Starscream as a higher value target than Megatron,:: Wheeljack said silently. ::Don't let it get out too much, but consider it when you three are in the field.::

::Gotcha,:: she managed not to nod.

"Well, you'll have a decaorn to get to know him, and vice-versa, before you head back down," he pointed out, speaking out loud again. "The Aerials are already pretty fond of you too, from what I've seen."

"Mmm, Fireflight and Silverbolt are pretty cute ... a completely different appeal than Dogfight. And Cloudraker's just _sexy_," she giggled. "Springer, though, talk about pure warrior," she purred deep in her frame.

"Please tell me she can't get pregnant," Jake groaned.

"Odds are that they would; older, better tested frames, built for carrying. Of course, we don't even know for sure if the Aerials _can_ carry, but if they did it'd almost certainly be Silverbolt who was the carrier. A second Aerial gestalt on the way, just what we'd need," Wheeljack chuckled, shaking his head.

"Wait, wait," Chance blinked. "So with you guys, the _guys_ can get pregnant too?"

"Gender's kind of arbitrary when you don't have biological imperatives," Wheeljack said easily. "But the odds are strongly against Stormshock being a carrier. She's not a full-on Seeker, wasn't built for it, and her frame's smaller than most of the most likely mechs to sire sparklings. We also didn't install the generative protocols, so any Seeker-kin would be _much_ more likely to carry. Of course, it's all kind of up in the air, so don't go banking on that," he pointed out seriously. "Also, remember that if you _do_ end up with sparklings you're going to be even more of an energon guzzler, and it'll be decades locally before you're done with it."

"And off the flight line," Jake said firmly, staring at his creation. "No way will I let you fight pregnant."

"Right," she nodded, her tail, ears and wings flickering in distress at the idea of being out of combat for _decades_.

"And you've just improved the odds that it won't happen," Wheeljack told Jake. "An active desire for it _not_ to happen improves the odds that it won't. I can't even begin to figure out all the variables," he admitted. "All I know for sure is that Sky hasn't been this happy in a while, at least when he's well-fueled."

"I'm surprised he let you out," Stormshock teased, grateful for new subject.

"Even the generative need to recharge," Wheeljack chuckled, shaking his head. "_Especially_ the generative. Here you are; feel comfortable enough to carry them in yourself?" He asked Stormshock, stopping in front of her quarters. "I could put them down too, it'll just be more walking for them."

She extended her hands, cupped together with fingers curled slightly upwards by way of answering. Her rich golden-amber visor focused on her kats, but made no effort to pick them up.

Wheeljack could read her the cant of wings easily enough; she was confident of herself, but not so confident that the kats would be.

Jake moved first, to no one's surprise, and climbed from Wheeljack's hand to hers without hesitation. Chance was a bit more careful as he moved over, but it was clear that it was mostly to avoid jostling Jake too much, rather than any lack of confidence in Stormshock. Wheeljack keyed in an access code, opening the door.

"It's set to respond to your ID ping; we've put a pair of transmitters in the room that will let Jake and Chance activate it too," he told her. "You've got the technical information on the security system under the files for the Ark."

"I don't see a washroom for you," Jake glanced at Stormshock after looking around the simple, barrack-like room with just the single door they'd come through. A bed-like object was along the right wall. A simple desk with a nearly backless chair was against the far wall. In the front left corner was what looked kinda like a built-in bench seat, only it had a door on the side facing the room's door.

"It's communal here, for the most part," she said easily and stepped inside, her wings twitching to track whether Wheeljack was coming in. "Most mechs need help to really get clean. That's the place they built for you. It's got a shower room and all the basics," she added as she knelt to let them climb to the floor in front of their apartment door.

"Just give me a ping when you're ready to meet Prime," Wheeljack told them. "No rush, but it'd be best not to take _too_ long," he added.

"Still too stiff to take _too_ long," Chance said, rolling his eyes as he opened the apartment and looked around. "Hey, Jake? How should I feel about the fact that they've apparently got better decorating up here than we manage down at the Yard?" He quipped.

"They don't have as much work to do," Jake shrugged, taking in the room that looked entirely too much like a miniature version of Stormshock's, though it had a regular desk and a drafting desk, a much softer looking bed plenty big for both kats. He could see through the open door inside that the bathroom was very much like the one in the hanger ... one big shower. His own sense of space made him sure there was a space beyond it too.

"We'll have to take some extra time to look around later," Chance observed. "They've probably got a small lab built in for you... wonder just how much time they expect us to spend here, eventually."

"Enough to be dangerously bored," Stormshock snickered before turning to take in her own space. Not that there was anything much to see. Her optics stopped on Wheeljack. "They'll be half an hour or so. Not really long enough to go anywhere."

"Well, I doubt that Jake will ever reach 'dangerously bored' with one of the labs available to him," Wheeljack chuckled. "If you'd like to chat then, I'm here."

"You want to get your shower while I see what we've got for outfits?" Chance suggested to Jake.

"Sure, though I'd say the shower is big enough for two," he grinned back before slipping into the second room and stripping down from the long shirts they'd woken up in.

Chance didn't bother to undress just yet, instead going over to the closet and opening it up, looking through for something suitable for meeting Prime in. He paused when he reached the back, looking at the uniform he'd gotten from Turmoil back when she'd attacked the city. On the surface, it was the perfect thing to wear for a meeting like this. On the other hand, it had a number of other associations for Chance that made it a bit less perfect. For one thing, the fact that it was the uniform of a flight commander who'd been expected to help blackmail his city and pitch his partner and best friend out the bomb bay of Turmoil's mothership.

For another, there were the bedroom games that Jake had wanted him to keep the uniform for in the first place. That _definitely_ made it seem a little less suitable for meeting somebody like the Prime.

Ultimately, Chance dismissed it, reminding himself that it wouldn't really do to be showing up dressed that much ahead of where Jake had anything to match it. But then, when he pulled the outfit forward to look at what was behind it, he saw a second uniform, very similar, sized for Jake.

"Where did this come from?" He asked, mostly to himself, as he pulled it out and glanced over at the shower. He didn't think that Jake had gotten his own version made. Maybe they'd made it up here, seeing Chance's uniform and knowing it would be best for formal meetings like this?

"They made them," Stormshock called out from where she was sitting and chatting with Wheeljack. "Closest thing to a dress uniform either of you kept."

"Yeah, the Enforcer grays had all the wrong connotations after we got canned," Chance pointed out. "As long as they don't mind that the person who came up with the design's still got her tail in Alkatraz, works for me. They take Jake's measurements out of the system, or base it off his flight suit?" He asked her.

A few clicks passed between the mechs before she answered. "Both uniforms were tailored based on the scans they took yesterday. They should fit perfectly and be functional for combat if required."

"Just figured I'd check," Chance chuckled, pulling the two uniforms out and setting them on the bed. "I'll just go check on Jake, we'll be ready soon."

* * *

><p>"What are you nervous about?" Jake asked Stormshock very quietly as they approached Prime's office, guided by Wheeljack and Prowl.<p>

Her wings quivered and tensed in an effort to make them still, but it was a futile effort.

"Being introduced to a living god is a reasonable cause for stress," Prowl said simply. "Even though he refuses to accept the title, it does nothing to change what the Lord Prime _is_."

"Relax, there's nothing you need to worry about," Chance reassured her. "It's not like we just blew up something we weren't supposed to, after all."

"I know," she clicked, trying to translate the sensations her spark was sending into anything that made sense. "It's not that kind of uneasy."

"Well, it sounds like most of the others aren't something we need to worry about too much, so just try to remember to keep breathing... or... whatever it is you do," Chance fumbled for the right words.

She smiled down at him, her whiskers twitched along with her wings. Then they were at the Prime's door.

A single deep cycle of air passed through her systems before the door opened to Prowl's command. Inside the kats caught sight of an utterly ordinary military office. A large desk, a few chairs on the visitor side, a couple paintings of alien cities hung on the walls and a large, finely crafted insignia matching the one every mech except Stormshock wore hung behind the very large chair on the far side of the desk.

"Welcome, SWAT Kats," a deep baritone voice rumbled over them, through them, from a gigantic red and blue mech and Stormshock quivered in an entirely different way. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"An honor to meet you, Sir," Chance said, standing at attention in Stormshock's hand to offer a respectful salute. He could feel her want to move, want to react, but holding still by will alone.

The giant smiled and strode around his desk. "Everyone, please be seated," he said and motioned to one corner of the far side of his desk where there were kat-sized chairs.

It was enough to get Stormshock to move, and she stepped forward, placing her hands on the desk so the kats could be seated, then willingly followed Wheeljack's light touch to the largest of the chairs.

It was only then that relative sizes really sunk in with Jake. Wheeljack was a bit bigger than Prowl, he gauged them both to be between twenty and twenty five feet tall, and he knew Stormshock, just by virtue of being a jet, would be one of the larger mechs at almost thirty feet ... but to realize that _Prime_, a giant of a mech by their standards, was actually _shorter_ than Stormshock was a little weird. He was sure than Prime outweighed her though, especially in armor value.

Prime allowed them all a moment to settle. Time for the two kats to take everything in and for the newest mech to processes her spark and protocol reactions to him enough to be suitably coherent.

"While I regret the circumstances that have brought you here, it will be a relief to be more open in our presence on Aristal. With the arrival of the Elite trine, the three jets you fought, our ability to remain hidden will be limited. Your good will will be of great assistance in approaching the governments of Aristal."

"Sir, are you aware that within Megakat City the SWAT Kats are considered outlaws?" Chance pointed out. "We haven't been abroad that much, but they're not generally that much more fond of us, as far as we know."

"You are, however, highly regarded by Deputy Mayor Calico Briggs, Lieutenant Commander Felina and Commander Ulysses Feral," Prowl spoke up. "While he is unlikely to admit it in public, he does value the work you do. Abroad you are respected, at least in the context of being trustworthy."

"Good to know ... and I suppose the guys at MASA _did_ turn over that coolant pretty easily," Chance admitted. "From what we've seen so far, we're willing to help out."

"Ditto," Jake nodded. "We'll do what we can to help."

"Thank you," Prime inclined his head to them. He opened his mouth to speak when the door slid open again.

"Hay guys," a cheery, irreverent voice greeted everyone.

"Jazz," Prowl glared at the small silver mech. "You are late."

"Jake, Chance, Stormshock, this is my second in command and head of special operations, Jazz," Optimus introduced the minibot.

"Hiya!" Jazz greeted them cheerfully.

"I'm not sure if I should be glad he's in such a good mood or worried," Chance chuckled.

"Both," Wheeljack and Prowl said at the same time. Jazz just smirked at the response.

"So pretty much standard for when you're dealing with Intel," the tabby smirked.

"Yap," Jazz quipped and sprawled into the chair next to Prowl. He casually draped a hand over Prowl's, which the large mech dutifully ignored. "I come bearing news of our wayward birds."

"The Elites?" Chance guessed. "Any idea why they were nosing around Aristal where there wasn't anything to see?"

"Yap," Jazz nodded, his fingers playing with Prowl's hand. "Starscream, Thundercracker and a damaged Skywarp. Word is they're looking for a renegade Seeker, who's less renegade and more infiltrator."

"The mech Ratchet's rebuilding from the protoform up?" Wheeljack guessed. "Any word on _who_ he might be? We might be able to get some sort of reaction out of him."

"If he's who he's supposed to be, the designation's Warwind. Unfortunately the only mechs who know Warwind's spark well enough to tell if what we have is him are still on Cybertron," Jazz reported. "They'll still probably be here before Ratchet fixes enough of him to be sure."

The designation got Prowl's attention. "One of yours."

"Yeah. Deep cover since before the war," Jazz nodded. "I inherited him, so I don't know him personally."

"Maintain his cover?" Wheeljack asked Jazz briefly. "Or should we let the others know that we've got a lead?"

"No," Jazz shook his head and x-vented sharply. "Whether that's Warwind or not, his cover was blown. They've listed him as flying dead."

"It ought to shut up the mechs who're worried it's some sort of 'Con trap, at least," Wheeljack nodded. "Any word on what blew his cover?"

Jazz shook his head and grumbled low in his vocalizer, just a sequence of unhappy sounds. "To last this long, through this many purges ... I may not have known him, but I knew the mech who wrote his file and sent him under as well as I know myself," Jazz's voice was low, soft, almost reverent as he spoke of his predecessor's predecessor. "Warwind wouldn't have been caught. He bolted. That he bolted _here_ means whatever he found that was worth his cover, worth his mission, and it's here."

Wheeljack leaned back in his own seat, thinking about their options; this wasn't necessarily the place to go into them though.

"You guys said he's being rebuilt from the protoform up ... will he still know anything after you're done with that?" Chance asked. "If we can find out what they're looking for here, besides him, we might have some idea of what _we_ should be looking for to keep it out of their hands."

"We know what it is," Prime rumbled, his deep voice low and resonant. "The Allspark is here, the ultimate source of all Cybertronian sparks, even those kindled by mechs. We do not know where on or in Aristal it is, only that it is here and its energy is deeply woven into this world."

"Which means that the 'Cons know about it too. They're probably heading here as fast as the Nemesis can handle," Wheeljack observed. "Assuming they're not already somewhere we just can't pick up on our sensors. It wouldn't be impossible for them to have snuck in from the other side of the planet."

"And it means that we need to get _you_ guys in good pretty fast, before _they_ make it harder," Chance frowned.

"Even with this information, I calculate there is only a 16.7088% probability that Starscream shared any intel he has on Aristal with Megatron," Prowl spoke up. "However, I must concur that the Elite trine's presence makes it imperative that we establish ourselves on Aristal as quickly as possible."

"So you think it's something like four in five odds that Starscream would have just taken his wingmates, issued a 'shoot on sight' order on somebody, and gone out to do it without telling Megatron?" Chance asked, surprised even after what Wheeljack had told them about Starscream. Even _Steele_ wouldn't have tried something like that. "_How_ does he keep his rank again?"

"There is a 97.5164% probability that Starscream informed both Megatron and the Seekers that he was going to hunt down a traitor and who it is," Prowl corrected smoothly. "There is a 16.7088% probability that Starscream told Megatron anything else."

"Screamer keeps his rank by virtue of being the only one who can control the Seekers for long," Jazz snickered darkly, amused by a joke only he knew. "As long as Megs wants to keep the Seekers under the Decepticon banner, he has to keep Screamer functioning, Air Commander and his Second in Command."

"Right... okay, I'm not going to try figuring out all of it," Chance decided, shaking his head. "So, what do we do next?"

Prime took center stage without making a sound or movement.

"First, I want you to work with Jazz and Prowl to develop a plan to introduce us to important world leaders," Optimus Prime stated. "Second, I need to know if you wish to return to your home while Stormshock is still under Ratchet's authority or if you will remain on board the Ark until she is cleared for active duty."

"Jake?" Chance asked, looking over at the quiet cinnamon tom. "It'd give us time to work on it, but I don't know if we can afford to leave the Yard that long, even with some help there."

They all watched as Jake sighed, slid his fingers over his face and closed his eyes. Though only Chance and Stormshock had seen this before, everyone in the room recognized someone running every possibility through their system of what-if and priorities.

To his credit, Prowl kept his vocalizer muted, though he couldn't keep his sensor wings from twitching in the desire to help the kat decide.

"We can stay an orn or two, but any longer and it'll take too long to put the Yard and Hanger to rights again," Jake sighed. He really wanted to stay as long as they'd let him. "Even with them following our system, a lot depends on what we know is in what pile. Everything that's arrived since we crashed is going to have to be inventoried for our memories, even if it's logged in."

"You know, Jake, I can handle the inventory," Chance suggested. "Be a lot more useful there than I will be trying to figure out how to talk to the people in charge. Especially when one of them is Feral," he chuckled grimly. He knew the instant Jake flashed him that hopeful, pleading, grateful look just how badly Jake wanted to stay on the Ark.

"If you really don't mind," he gave his partner one last out, one last opening to satisfy Jake's own morals.

"Jake, it's a couple weeks at worst," Chance pointed out. "It'll be ugly up front, but if they really have been sticking to the system, there won't be that much damage to undo, especially since there hasn't been a major Omega attack lately. I'll keep myself busy after that. Besides, it means I _don't_ have to handle the political crud."

Jake chuckled low in his throat. "Deal." He looked up at Prime. "Which means he's going back to the Yard ASAP and I'm stay until Stormy is allowed to take me down."

"Just don't go forgetting you have to come back down eventually," Chance smiled. "And remember, you being up here means you don't get to complain about _my_ tinkering with the cars that come through," he added.

Jake gave him a wary look, but still decided it was well worth it. "And you don't get to complain when half of Stormy's specs are different when you see her again."

"They already are, Jake," Wheeljack and Chance said in unison.

It was all that it took to take Stormshock's quiet snickers and wing flutter to full laugher with engines roaring.

"We're doomed," Jazz deadpanned, causing even Prowl to snort in amusement.


	19. Demands of the Sky

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Starscream/Skywarp/Thundercracker  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Slash  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>text<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 19: Demands of the Sky<p>**

* * *

><p>::Come on, Starscream,:: Skywarp actually whined from where they floated on the far side on the world to the Ark. ::Frag me. I can't take it anymore.::<p>

::We can't afford to have you tied up with hatchlings while we're looking for Warwind! Or after the Nemesis finally gets here, for that matter!:: Starscream ;told him firmly. It was getting harder to resist though, for him and for Thundercracker. They had to try and keep this planet's secret until after he could take control of the Decepticons ... or at least until they could find the Allspark! Megatron couldn't be allowed to take credit for finding it!

::Have you managed to find anything yet?:: He demanded, hoping to keep Skywarp distracted from his borderline-generative systems.

A low, plaintive whine escaped Skywarp, an instinctive sound meant to call his mates to create the next generation.

::The Allspark energy is spread throughout the planet, even deep in its crust. While the area of Megakat City is has the strongest concentration, it's _everywhere_.:: His voice wavered, a fluctuation both his trinemates were well acquainted with. He had news, a theory, he knew would be received poorly.

::If you're going to upset me, now would be the time to do it,:: Starscream pointed out irritably.

::There's a more than 80% chance that the Allspark didn't crash here, it vaporized here,:: Skywarp said quietly. ::It's completely incorporated into this world now.::

It was clear from his EM field what Starscream thought of that idea. If it was true, then they'd have to find some way to move the entire _planet_ back to Cybertron... that, or evacuate Cybertron here. Either way, he didn't particularly care for it.

::If you're right, then we're wasting our time looking for it. We need to take over the whole planet to get what we're after. Of course, if you're _not,_ then this Megakat City would be the best place to look.::

::Yes,:: Thundercracker rumbled eagerly, more than just spoiling for a fight; he _needed_ one. ::Let's find out how a major world power handles a direct assault.::

::We need to use _some_ strategy, Thundercracker, or we'll be finding out how the Autobots handle it again instead,:: Starscream pointed out, quiet for a few moments as he thought. ::On the other hand, if we come in low enough to start out, we might just be able to find out how this Megakat City handles being attacked by their own defense forces! Skywarp, will you be able to control yourself long enough for to get into the city and get hold of one of their fighter jets?::

::Probably,:: the black and purple Seeker purred, excited enough by the prospect of mischief, even combat mischief, to push thoughts of interfacing and kindling to the back of his processors for the moment. Besides, watching his trinemates in action was erotic on his worst days, much less when he _wanted_ to be impressed. ::Be right back.::

::Here's hoping he doesn't try to 'face one of them while he's there,:: Thundercracker grumbled. ::How'd we ever choose a trinemate who's such a coward.::

::All Visions are cowards when they aren't defending their clutch and you know it,:: Starscream defended Skywarp with uncharacteristic authority. ::It's not their _purpose_ to fight.::

::Then you should just let us 'face him until he shuts up and leave it at that,:: Thundercracker grumbled. ::If he's not going to be fighting, then it doesn't matter if he's carrying. Then _we_ could get some actual work done!::

Starscream couldn't even begin to conceal his surprise. ::Hatchlings ... _our_ hatchlings ... in this war? You're okay with that?::

::If we can get Megatron out of the way and hold this planet, we can win the war before they hatch,:: Thundercracker pointed out. ::Or at least confine the war to this world, as the Autobots pull their forces here. Send the hatchlings back to Cybertron, where they'll learn to rule like they should, and after we've crushed the Autobots we can return as heroes to be with them.::

Starscream hummed, liking his Action's logic. Before he could reply, Skywarp popped back in, Enforcer jet in hand.

::You know, _you're_ the ones who are supposed to bring _me_ gifts,:: Skywarp teased them.

::Maybe we'll go shopping after ripping apart their air forces,:: Starscream retorted wryly. ::Care to join us, Skywarp? Even _you_ might enjoy this fight.::

::That frames going to murder our flight specs,:: Thundercracker grumbled even as he scanned it. ::It'll be fun though.::

::If you wanted a jet that would be a top flyer, you should have tried to catch the one that Star shot down the other orn,:: Skywarp countered. ::I just hope the Autobots didn't get their claws on it.::

::Yeah, but _that_ one can't sneak around in Enforcer ranks,:: Starscream pointed out as he scanned the empty jet. ::One of a kind and outlaw.::

::So you two would have an excuse to chase me around,:: Skywarp teased. ::I could certainly think of worse things to do with our downtime.::

::Shut up and scan that thing so we can have some fun,:: Thundercracker scolded him.

::Just a thought,:: Skywarp shrugged verbally, finishing the job and discarding the jet to crash below. ::If we waited for one of the local 'Omega attacks,' we could probably do more damage,:: he suggested.

::No more _waiting_!:: Thundercracker roared as the three fell into formation in alt mode. ::Port us into the action _now_!::

With a flash, Skywarp used the pinhole gate that he'd already created to make things easier, the three jets coming out of nowhere just outside of Megakat City's constantly patrolled airspace. The city's skyline was reminiscent of some of the cities on Cybertron, albeit on a vastly smaller scale. Several broad 'lanes' through the skyscrapers were obviously intended for the patrolling jets, though some were always well above the high-rises, ready to respond to anything out of the ordinary.

Unfortunately for the Enforcers, a trio of Talons apparently coming in from a Badlands patrol wasn't that out of the ordinary.

::So many targets,:: Thundercracker reveled in the massive destruction that was about to be visited on the organic city spread out before them.

::Skywarp, port into the large patrol.:: Starscream instructed as he peeled away to join up with a different patrol just to see if they'd accept him. ::Thundercracker, pick your targets and have fun.::

Felina glanced out of her cockpit as the jets that had been coming in from the Badlands broke formation. She lost track of one of them, but the other two broke off for separate wings. She reached up to key her communicator.

::This is Lieutenant Commander Feral, addressing the three Talons that just flew in from vector eight. Identify yourselves, and explain why you just broke formation. This isn't an exhibition.::

::This is Starscream,:: a male voice she didn't recognize responded as one of the Talons joined her wing. ::Our orders were to join existing patrols once we came in.::

::How much fuel do you and your wingmates have left?:: She asked him, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice with mixed results. She didn't recognize his call sign, and dispatch normally wouldn't break up a patrolling wing without a _damned_ good reason. The trick was finding a way to confirm her suspicions without tipping them off.

::Half a tank, ma'am,:: he responded even as the patrol over the bay sent a panicked call for backup.

Felina swore mentally. Something felt off about this whole thing, mostly that she didn't know any pilots with that call sign. But the SOS took priority over figuring out who was behind her for the moment.

::Black Knights, Alpha Squadron, follow me out there,:: she ordered. ::Silver Dawn, we're on our way.::

Suddenly laser fire opened up behind her and the second to last jet on her right, the one in front of Starscream, gave one snarled curse and the pilot and gunner ejected as it went down in flames. Even as she processed that, three more SOSs came over the radio.

She didn't have to look to be certain that they were Starscream's wingmates. She snarled as she brought her jet up into a sharp loop, just in time to avoid being shot down herself.

::This is Lieutenant Commander Feral. All Enforcers, take evasive action. Secure channel Foxtrot,:: she ordered them, trying to get a lock on Starscream before he could lose himself in the crossfire. Whoever Starscream was, he was _good_, she admitted grimly as Enforcers checked in and information began to flow. Fortunately for her, and unfortunately for her opponents, her forces had seen far too much chaos and combat to be easily fooled for long. You simply didn't survive in Megakat City's skies for long without flawless instincts for these kinds of things.

::Target engine heat!:: a half familiar voice yelled at them on the correct channel. ::They're _way_ hotter than we are.::

::Worse than hunting the damn Turbokat,:: someone grumbled.

::Command, send chopper backup, armed with heat seekers!:: She called in to base. ::We have three hostiles in stolen Talons, watch yourselves!::

She switched her thermal scanners on, quickly getting a lock on one of the trio of jets. She fired her missiles, peeling off as they streaked towards her target. They were about to hit when her target suddenly disappeared, leaving the missiles to search for a target before crashing into the nearest building.

::My turn!:: An unfamiliar voice crowed across the unencrypted channel, blasterfire clipping her wing from behind.

::Who are you?:: she demanded, flipping neatly on her tail to open fire on the Talon behind her.

::Skywarp,:: the answer came with a snicker. ::Thundercracker's our third,:: he added helpfully.

Her entire jet rocked as one of her engines was shot out by the third Talon. She shifted power to the other engine, trying to stay in the air as long as she could. They weren't firing on the ejecting pilots, but she didn't want her jet to come down on top of somebody either.

::Anybody who can... when the choppers get here, provide backup for the unit over the sea!:: She said, grunting with the effort to control her jet on the way down towards a mostly empty park.

* * *

>Deep in his mountain stronghold, Dark Kat watched the chaos over the city with a mixture of amusement, annoyance and intense curiosity. "Well, well, just what are you three?" he murmured to himself.<p><p>

"Scanners indicate no pilots, Master," the cool, emotionless voice of the computer console he was sitting at announced.

"Most interesting," Dark Kat murmured. "What is the current status of Operation Darkstar?"

"Overall: 78.5% complete. Frame: 83%. Programming: 96%. Weapons: 62%. Engines: 73%. Unable to launch."

"Have one of our agents plant a tracer on one of those three Talons. I want to know where they're going," Dark Kat said. "I rather doubt that the Enforcers will be shooting them down at this rate."

"Orders sent," the computer replied. "Five unidentified craft approaching the scene of the battle. ID Tags do not correspond to any known nation or organization."

"Visual," Dark Kat ordered, excitement edging into his voice.

There was a moment as the computer processed the different available video feeds, before settling on one from the top of a nearby skyscraper. Five different jets, each a different model that he couldn't quite recognize. But, most interestingly, each was painted in SWAT colors.

"Well, well," he said, pressing his fingers together as he watched. "It seems the SWAT Kats may have some new friends. Begin rearranging active operations to compensate," he commanded, watching the new jets open fire on the three rogue Talons.

"Working," the computer replied.

The newcomers didn't have any of the same issues the Enforcers did, not with speed, agility or targeting. For the rogues, it was like a switch flipped. Enforcers were ignored. The new SWAT Kats were all that mattered. As both sides abandoned any effort to appear normal, Dark Kat's grin became more manic.

"Most interesting."

"They are performing at or above peak observed SWAT Kat performance," the computer offered helpfully. "Much higher in g-forces. Lack of biological pilots likely contributing factor, but material strength and engineering standards must be much higher as well."

"Target any damaged one with an EM missile," Dark Kat ordered. "I want one to study."

"Dispatching assets to take advantage of the collateral damage," the computer announced. "Orders given; agents will attempt to lure battle near launch-site Epsilon. It was due to be abandoned shortly regardless."

"Excellent," Dark Kat rumbled and watched the five-on-three battle that was completely ignoring the enforcers buzzing around like the insignificant gnats they were ... no, the SWAT Kats painted ones were taking care to protect the locals while the mock Enforcers were happy to shoot at them if they came too close.

An Enforcer got in close, scoring a lucky hit that made it the immediate target of the struck mock Enforcer, who followed hot on the Enforcer's tail snarling insults in a dozen languages before descending into a mechanical one.

"Perfect," Dark Kat purred, watching as the spy camera shifted to follow the scene as far as it could, before another one took over. After a few moments of chasing, he heard the sound of the missile launching.

The video feeds went dead as the missile detonated close to its target, setting off an EM pulse that would shut down everything within a city block.

"I don't suppose you happened to warn the pilot what we'd be setting off behind him?" Dark Kat asked the computer casually.

"Negative, Master," the computer said without a trace of regret. "There was a 15.7% chance that the pilot would not have led the target close enough to the launch site if he had known what would happen."

"Very well. Prepare the Scavenger. I'm going to go with the creeplings to retrieve the pieces."

* * *

>"I have to get out there!" Chance snarled at the seven-foot tall black and gray mech who was gently restraining him.<p><p>

Rewind x-vented lightly and adjusted his grip. "Chance, the Aerialbots are handling it. Those jets might look like Enforcer Talons, but they're Seekers."

"That's why they're going to need backup!" Chance countered. "Enforcers are in the crossfire, Rewind. I've got _friends_ out there who've already gone down, and others still in the air. I can use the Cyclotron, provide ground support, do _something_."

"Use your hardlight and take the other Cyclotron," Ramhorn snorted, eager for action himself. "Kat's got a point."

Suddenly, the TV crackled with static, interrupting them briefly.

"What the heck was that?" Chance frowned.

"Primitive EM pulse weapon," Rewind said as he let the kat go. "Someone targeted a Seeker with it. Won't do anything."

"Not to the Seeker, but it will to everything else in the blast zone. The Enforcers wouldn't have set something like that off, not over the city. Banks, hospitals, anything like that around where it went off, it could be a disaster!" Chance rushed off to the hangar. "Heading out to see how much damage was done, find out where that went off!"

"We're coming," Rewind insisted, easily outpacing the kat while Ramhorn activated his hardlight avatar generator to appear to be a large red-furred SWAT Kat on a Cyclotron.

"For reference," the symbiot added as he transformed and activated his hardlight avatar so it formed around his oddly shaped rectangular alt mode. "It was over an industrial section with little activity. I'm channeling damage reports to your helmet HUD."

"That's great. I'd rather be out there and not have anything to do than be here and find out that I might have been able to save some kat who was in the wrong place at the wrong time," T-Bone pointed out, climbing onto his Cyclotron and going through the damage reports. "You might want to warn your buddies that there's a good chance Dark Kat's going to be showing up. He's the only lunatic I can think of who'd have set off a weapon like that."

"Both gestalts have been notified," Rewind nodded, waiting for Chance to completely suit up as T-bone before turning his Cyclotron on. "The Protectobots are already on the scene. Reporting limited damage and casualties at the moment. Most damage will be found when the factories try to start up again."

"Enforcer casualties?" T-Bone asked. "Have they spotted Lieutenant Commander Feral yet?"

"Heavier," Rewind admitted.

T-bone revved up the Cyclotron, taking off onto the roads from the hangar's ramp, Ramhorn and Rewind on his flanks. He adjusted his comm so he could listen in on the Enforcer frequencies, careful not to transmit on them until he had a good reason to.

"Sixteen jets shot down, one confirmed dead, three injured," Rewind reported the summary. "Felina's uninjured and pissed. She managed to crash land at a secondary strip."

"And probably already on her way back out with her bazooka to try getting a clean shot," T-Bone chuckled. "The fight still going on?"

"The Enforcers think so, but it's over," Rewind chuckled. "If they take any more casualties, it's because they got between our fighters. They're taking it out over the Badlands."

"Right. There going to be any ruffled feathers if I play flight commander to get the Enforcers to let them take it out of the city?" Chance asked. "They might break off if they know that 'SWAT' is trying to get them out where it's safe."

"Not at all," Rewind grinned over at him as they raced at entirely illegal speeds through the city streets, allies, sidewalks and parks. "Silverbolt's ready for you to."

T-Bone keyed up his communicator, broadcasting to the Enforcers.

::This is T-Bone, SWAT Kats flight lead. I'm moving in to assist with rescue operations on the ground. My backup is attempting to move the fight out of the city; please do not interfere, we're trying to minimize the damage inside the city.::

::Understood, SWAT Kats,:: Felina's voice came back. ::All Enforcers, back off. Let the SWAT Kats take down those three. We'll get them afterwards.:: She switched to a private frequency. ::We'd _better_ get them afterwards. What the hell are they?::

::It's a long story, Lieutenant Commander, and I don't know all of it either. All I can tell you right now is that they're not Talons, and they're not local either. If we _can_ bring them down, I'll see what I can do, but I understand they've got a knack for getting away. You already saw one of them can teleport, from the news reports.::

::Understood,:: she said tightly, a tone he knew from long familiarity meant that she was cursing fluently in her head. ::I want a briefing when we meet up in the EM blast zone. I know that's where you're headed.::

::Understood,:: he said, swearing at himself as well. He'd known it was coming though. He switched his frequency over to the SWAT frequency, contacting Rewind and the Aerials. ::Lieutenant Commander Feral is going to want a briefing when we meet her. I'll try giving her the briefest explanation I can, but see if we can pick up the pace on bringing her in.::

::Passed on to Prowl,:: Silverbolt responded, though he sounded rather distracted.

::It'll probably be cleared in a few days, max,:: Rewind supplied. ::She's a better one to tell than the Commander, at least as far as being reasonable goes.::

::She's also met the aliens who _didn't_ want to steal all our water, so that'll help,:: T-Bone agreed. ::Keep your scanners going, I have a feeling we'll be meeting a batch of Dark Kat's creeplings before the day's out. You've got the info on what to look for, right?::

::Yap,:: Ramhorn snorted. ::They're in for a surprise.::

::Oh yeah,:: T-Bone nearly purred. ::Remember, you don't have to play gently with the creeplings. They're certainly not going to return the favor if you do.:: He wove between traffic almost as though it wasn't there, streaking towards the sound of sirens in the distance.

It didn't take them long to zero in on the area.

::Injured kat six hundred meters ahead,:: Rewind reported, preparing T-Bone for the turn. ::Creeplings are inside as well.::

::No surprise. Switching Glovatrix to net launchers. Don't want to hit the casualty.:: He sped up, taking the lead of the three, spotting the creeplings stripping down a crashed Talon. Twisting the cyclotron around, he raised his hand and fired a net, ripping the top three off the jet as his slide carried him into a fourth with a mix of squawks and crunches.

More squawks came from around him as Ramhorn and Rewind joined the action, each in their own way. Creeplings went flying and hurriedly scrambled to get away from the SWAT Kats.

"Cowards," Ramhorn snorted.

"Pilot's going to be hurting for a long time, but he should live," Rewind reported from where his hardlight had climbed up to the cockpit. "Ambulance is on the way."

"Let's give 'em a head start," T-Bone told him, extending the buzzsaw from his Glovatrix. "No telling when the ordnance that's left might go off. Tell me where to cut to get him clear," he instructed Rewind, climbing up to help out as much as he could.

"Here," Rewind pointed. "And here. I've given him a small nanite injection to stop the worst of the internal bleeding and give him a head start on healing. It won't be detected unless they look for them in the next three hours, but it'll make sure he survives as long as he wants to."

T-Bone cut through the jet's body, opening a safe path to extra the pilot and jumping on down.

"There's going to be more of the little buggers around here than just those." He adjusted the visor on his helmet, looking around for likely targets. "There," he said, pointing towards a warehouse that looked much like any of the others. "Pumadyne consumer-grade warehouse; even if it's not top of the line, it'll have a lot of things on DK's grocery list. Come on, it'll be a good place to meet Felina after we clear it out too."

"Sounds good," Ramhorn chuckled and charged over to terrorize the creeplings until Felina arrived.

It didn't take long. By the time T-bone handed the injured pilot off to the paramedics he could hear an Enforcer chopper coming in for a landing.

T-Bone backed away from the jet, the better to avoid anything caught in the wash from the rotors, and waited for her to climb out.

"Glad to see you're in one piece, Lieutenant Commander. I was worried when I heard you'd been hit."

"I'm as easy to kill as you are," she gave him a smirking grin and waved the chopper off. "Now, what is going on?"

"If you'd seen us after the first time we fought those three, you wouldn't be so sure about that," T-Bone joked weakly. "I'm not up on all the details, Razor's working through more of it, but you remember the Aquians? Well, the good news is that they're not the only friendly aliens out there. The bad news is that the friendly ones have some much less friendly counterparts. The three 'Talons' were advance scouts. The 'SWAT' backup you got were some of the friendly ones who are helping out while the Turbokat gets rebuilt after our first run-in with them."

"Are all the new SWAT Kats these aliens?" she cast a meaningful look at Ramhorn and Rewind's hardlight avatars.

"Yes, and not really members of SWAT," T-Bone nodded. "They _are_ on our side, Felina," he added. "And what we're up against... I'm afraid we need them. What I've already seen says that if we're up against the Decepticons on our own, we're in big trouble. They're not going to turn tail and run because it's not profitable anymore."

"So what are they after and what do these guys want?" she motioned towards the two new SWAT Kats with her chin.

"Would you believe that they think Aristal's got some sort of energy that they need in order to breed? I _really_ don't know the full details, but I know that the Autobots - the ones on our side - are looking for somewhere safe to settle down and try to build up the defenses they need to keep the 'Cons from taking over. Razor's working on finding out the rest of it now. We were going to try and approach you, Miss Briggs, and your Uncle as soon as we could, but the 'Cons showing up kinda changed things."

Felina nodded, her gaze shifting to lock on the two newcomers. "Names?" she barked at them.

"Rewind and Ramhorn," Rewind's hardlight answered before Ramhorn could make any trouble. "We'd rather not prove what he's saying in the open," he added.

"That's a given," she smirked. "In there good enough?" she nodded towards the building they were headed for. "Who's your local leader?"

"Optimus Prime. The _true_ leader of Cybertron, whatever Megatron likes to think," Rewind replied as they entered the warehouse, his scanners sweeping the area for any sign of people inside. "He's probably why the Ark found its way here, instead of one of the other scout ships."

"The Autobots and Decepticons have been caught up in a civil war for... well, longer than I can imagine," T-Bone explained. "Megatron's the leader of the Decepticons, think Dark Kat with a built-in Dreadnought." He was privately relieved when she shuddered at the description. "He tried to take over, and from the sound of things the 'Cons have pretty well taken over the planet. I imagine there's going to be an attempt to take it back eventually, but that's going to be a _long_ time coming. They think in lifetimes, for us."

"A lifetime for most of us too," Rewind nodded solemnly. "Between rebuilding our numbers and getting there again."

Felina nodded. "So let's see what you really are. I'm sure you realize that Prime is going to be expected to talk to us soon, if we're going to be friendly."

"I understand, and I'm sure that they're keeping it in mind. The initial contact may be through others, simply because Prime can be... intimidating," Rewind explained, dropping his hardlight to reveal the black and gray oddly shaped rectangle form that made up his alt mode, then transformed to land on his feet. He paused, giving her a long minute to take in their forms and was privately impressed when her heart rate accelerated only slightly and she didn't show the least sign of fear. Instead she had hard, calculating brown eyes on them, judging them, judging their danger to her.

"Ramhorn and I are _very small_ Cybertronians. Prime is large, even if he's not the biggest," Rewind continued when he decided she was done staring. "Somebody the size of Jazz or Bumblebee is more manageable for most organics, and they get along well with people."

Felina nodded, regarding the nearly ten foot tall robot and the tank on legs of the one that didn't talk. "So just how big is Prime?"

"Twenty-eight feet tall," Rewind supplied. "Almost three times my height."

"He does his best to minimize it, depending on who he's meeting, but it _is_ pretty intimidating. Especially when you see the claws," T-Bone admitted.

"Least dangerous thing about most of us," Ramhorn snorted, tossing his rhinoceros-like head.

"Not helping," Rewind muttered to him. "Excuse Ramhorn," he added more loudly. "He enjoys a good scrap, and the creeplings weren't that much of a threat. Nothing he'd like better than to see one of the Elites crash through the roof right now."

"Wrong," Ramhorn corrected him. "Could be Ravage, or Laserbeak. I still owe that buzzard one."

The two kats glanced at each other and laughed, Felina relaxing slightly.

"Don't worry, I know his type," she said more seriously to Rewind. "So if you're looking to settle, where are you looking? In case you haven't noticed, we've inhabited most of the planet."

There was a brief moment of silence as he apparently thought.

"Probably getting the latest analysis," T-Bone explained. "They've got some sort of built-in communicators, from what we've figured out."

"Our current preferences are for select regions in the badlands, with a backup selection of certain sites in international waters," Rewind said after checking. "Arctic would be a distant third, mostly because of the distance from high-priority targets that the 'Cons are likely to go after. And T-Bone is correct, I was confirming with my carrier that plans hadn't changed. Since we're not organic lifeforms, we have a broader range of options for habitable territory. The ability to manufacture energy in sufficient quantities is the main requirement, with secondary issues related to having space for establishing a base. You've inhabited most of the planet that is within your species' livable zones, but there are still significant areas that are only accessible on a short-term basis for you, at best. Some of the benefits of changing that will probably be included as part of the negotiations, but that's beyond my pay grade to do more than speculate about."

"Probably beyond mine too," she admitted. "At least for the next couple decades. Just how many of you are there around Aristal, on each side?"

"Currently, there are only the three 'Cons on Aristal that we know of, but more will be arriving in the Nemesis before long. I believe that they had roughly fifty mechs on board the last we knew, though those numbers could have dropped. They're a bit more prone to 'training mishaps' than we are. There are about forty of us on board the Ark, in orbit near your moon currently."

Felina nodded, taking the numbers in and processing that. Her gaze moved to T-Bone, gauging him, judging if he was the same kat she's met years before. Working out whether to trust them, trust him.

"Is there anything else I should tell my uncle?"

"That I'm not thrilled about this either, but that I don't think we've got many options," T-bone said. "We had every advantage the first time we took on those three, and we couldn't even drop one of them permanently. I think we've got a better chance now, but you saw what they can do when _they_ have the advantages today, and like I said - that was only three of them. If we have fifty of them to handle, it's going to be messy."

"That's an understatement," Felina sighed. "Even if we get a miracle and they piss off all the Omegas we already have."

"That's about the only good news we have. They probably will, at least if what we saw when Dark Kat tried working with Viper's any indication. I just don't know how much good that's going to do us in the end," he admitted.

"Which goes back to a hard question," her gaze locked on the mechs. "If you lost your world, lost the war, and you're going to be outnumbered, just how much help will you be?"

"We can't lose this world," Rewind said bluntly. "We fight here, we stand here. We've fled other worlds to lure Megatron and his forces away before, but that's not an option this time. Besides, Prime knows now that he can't make peace with Megatron the way he tried to before. They won't have the chances they did on Cybertron."

"I hope not," she nodded to the mechs, then T-bone. "I expect to be seeing a meeting with Prime on my uncle's schedule _soon_."

"As soon as we can get them ready for it, Lieutenant Commander. And find a spot on all the schedules we need to make work together," he added.

"Good," she nodded and turned to leave. "I'll make sure he finds the time."


	20. Jake and Wheeljack

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Starscream/Skywarp/Thundercracker  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover,  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>text<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 20: Jake and Wheeljack<p>**

* * *

><p>Jake watched Wheeljack, fascinated beyond any ability to articulate it as he took in and <em>understood<em> things so above his understanding it should have been magic. Yet he _understood_ what Wheeljack was doing, even though half the explanation didn't even translate to any language on Aristal. The words were gibberish, but what he was watching, he grasped on an instinctive level.

It was the same grasp he had every time he'd faced technology that should be beyond him. The more advanced the machine was, the easier he could grasp it on an instinctive level, even if he could never put it into words or explain it well enough for another to build.

He's learned to keep his mouth shut and most of his best work to himself after too many humiliating rebuttals among his so-called peers in the scientific and engineering community.

He'd gotten some of the basics of the machine that Wheeljack was working on now when he and Perceptor had still been trying to convince him that the spark chamber was a fuel converter. That hadn't been too unusual, really; it took one liquid fuel and converted it into another.

What Wheeljack was working on now was something else entirely. A solar converter that produced energon... in a lot of ways, it was like the most incredibly advanced still that Jake had ever seen designed.

It kind of looked like one too, really, though he was pretty sure that was a coincidence.

"This should cut back on Stormshock's fuel consumption a good amount," Wheeljack explained. "Won't completely eliminate the need for normal fuel, not with anything that I could hide around the Yard, but she won't be completely reliant on it anymore. Plus, it'll keep Ratchet from griping _every_ time she comes in to get a tuneup," he joked.

"How much of that can she store, relative to her previous fuel load?" Jake asked, still watching with utter fascination as random bits and pieces of the 'how' fell into place for him.

"Going by the grade this produces, assuming full tanks and that she doesn't need to use her force field ... she should be good for a few weeks constant subsonic flight on a full tank. Not enough for long-range scouting, but I don't think she needs that sort of setup. If she starts using her force field, that'll go down to about three hours of sustaining it," he added. "And I wouldn't recommend filling her tanks completely, to be honest. We left her standard fuel tanks in place, so that's why she can carry so much. But it'd make getting shot at _very_ risky."

"Gotcha," Jazz nodded. "She can still make the lunar trip I'm sure she's told you about?"

"Easily," Perceptor said from not far away at his own workbench. "The trip she described to me would take less than a quarter of a tank. She would burn fuel much faster than Wheeljack's example with the speed-of-heat systems engaged, however it is still not an excessive journey.

"On a full tank, you should be able to reach the seventh planet's orbit and return within a week, though you'd be on fumes if you were not very accurate in your calculations," Wheeljack added. "I would not recommend it without an Aerialbot or the Ark to give you a fuel drop on the way back. Silverbolt in particular has far greater range than Stormshock. Skyfire too, though he's still not cleared for a long flight and won't be in the foreseeable future for you. They're both set up with high-efficiency engines for interplanetary flight and fuel tanks designed to take advantage of them."

"We do not have any evidence of other life in this system, so you would not have to go checking for that possibility," Perceptor offered. "It may be an interesting trip, but there would be a great deal of preparation needed."

"Less than you might imagine," Jake chuckled. "After various time trips, we kinda stock assuming a three week stay anywhere under any conditions. I can prep for three months in a couple hours."

"I was thinking more about the alternate gravitic and atmospheric conditions," Perceptor explained. "We've identified that at least one planet seems to have a sulfuric acid basis for its atmosphere, for example."

"Yeah, a couple places around here even we'd have a hard time in," Wheeljack agreed. "Think this'll be reasonably discrete behind the Yard somewhere?" He asked Jake as he finished up the part of the job he'd been working on.

"Easily," Jazz nodded. "If we stick it on the roof, it'd even look fairly natural. At least to anyone who knows I live out there. Just my tinkering to take us off the city grid and make a few bucks selling electricity to them that we don't use. I'm fairly sure I can maintain it now too, at least for anything short of getting smashed to bits."

"How often does action happen around the Yard?" Wheeljack asked him. "I haven't seen it, but it could just be a slow stretch. The concern is about storing the energon, you see. If something crashes into the distillation unit, it could be explosive if it has a significant amount of energon stored in it. Alternately, I could set it up to flow to a cubing unit in the hangar, instead of being a manual drain."

"Mmm, most of the action around the Yard has actually been _in_ the Hanger," Jake admitted grimly. "Every major security upgrade I've made has been after some Omega has proved the previous version insufficient. I think we flew over it once during the big air battle with Turmoil's forces." He settled and really _thought_ about the tactical logistics. "How likely are Decepticons to target, or even _find_, an energon source?"

"Find, pretty likely, target, not very," Wheeljack said after a bit of thought. "More likely to stake out the site than to try trashing it, at least early on. I've got a few things I can recommend to make life miserable for them though," he added with a grim chuckle.

"Good. I'll be taking you up on that," Jake nodded with a vicious smile that reminded both mechs he was not just a predatory organic, but one that was Special Forces trained. "The safest think I can think of is a double containment system. I'm assuming you have materials I can use to make a couple energon-explosion proof rooms. One small space for the cube being filled, a second larger one for storage of full cubes. That way if it's hit, we only loose the still and one cube, at most."

"That, and an obvious storage facility as a decoy, rigged so anybody trying to make unauthorized access learns their lesson fast," Wheeljack agreed. "Obvious to Cybertronians, not kats," he added quickly. "We should be able to spare that, and it'll make a strong point about trying to break into your facilities.

"Sounds good," Jake nodded. "I plan to install a few spark sensors around the Yard too, since I have no other way of knowing if a pile of scrap that comes in might not be what it seems. I'd welcome your input on those," he offered, intending it as an overture of friendship and trust.

"Certainly," Wheeljack said easily. "We can even set it up to recognize known friendlies. It's not foolproof, especially against Intel mechs, but it should help avoid what you were talking about. Something that'll detect Intel mechs is more difficult. Of course, I suppose you're used to things always being more complicated when Intel's involved," he chuckled.

Jake could only role his eyes and laugh. "Intel, Omegas, aliens, mutants ... it's all in a day's work. I'm used to _life_ being complicated when it comes to surviving. Though it does bring something up for me," he said as he shifted to tuck a knee against his chest, wrapped his arms around it lazily and settled his lower jaw on his knee. "Just how much is Prime going to push MKC to acknowledge the SWAT Kats as a legitimate force? Rules and needs change a _lot_ when we don't have to hide from the locals."

"I'm pretty sure he'll be pushing _hard_ for it. If nothing else, he'll try to get you guys recognized as Enforcer liaisons with the Autobots. But you guys staying vigilantes isn't likely to be an acceptable state of affairs, unless you _want_ it and make a good case for why it's more practical."

"As long as we stay independent of the Enforcers and politics in general, it'd be nice not to get shot at by our own," Jake shook his head. "It's only efficient now because we have to break a lot of rules to fight the Omegas and win. That and the Enforcers never let us take my creations into battle."

"We'll have to see what can be done, but it sounds like something that we'll be better off talking about with Deputy Mayor Briggs than with Feral. An independent special-ops group," Wheeljack suggested. "Not unlike Intel, though with less focus on the espionage end of things."

"It _may_ actually work better for you, in that case, if you were formally aligned with the Autobots, but that is a much more complicated issue," Perceptor suggested. "Prowl would be good to talk with, for navigating the legal structures."

"Yeah, as much as he's all about following the rules, he's better than anybody likes to think about at finding the loopholes in them," Wheeljack agreed.

"Sounds like Feral, really," Jake smiled slightly. "Otherwise he'd have brought us in and locked us up for good a _long_ time ago. No matter what Chance wants to believe, I know what we'd be up against if Feral was _really_ following the law and intent on locking us away. The hate is mostly an act, but it's not one he can change. We cause too much damage. I'll have a chat with Prowl about politics when he has some free time for it."

"Let him know you want to, and he'll make some time," Wheeljack suggested. "It's part of the mission, so it gets priority over things like routine paperwork, reaming out the Twins after Ratchet's done with them, or getting distracted by Jazz."

Jake snickered. "Will do. Though I don't think I'd mind watching him be distracted by Jazz if I'm reading them right ... that they're a couple."

"Yes, they are, but I don't know that you'd necessarily get too much of a kick out of watching a pair of mechs interfacing," Wheeljack chuckled. "At least not Jazz and Prowl."

"That different?" he cocked his head. "But there are some I would recognize what I'm looking at?"

"Well, when there's no biological imperative, it's kind of an optional upgrade," Wheeljack chuckled. "Sky and I have it, and some of the others, but Prowl doesn't, for example. Of course, I think he only got the 'facing protocols in the first place because of Jazz, so no real surprise there. Beyond spike and valve, there's plenty we can do, some of it not even involving physical contact."

"Sex without touching?" Jake repeated in his own terms, trying to work out that thought. "Like comm sex?"

"One option, but there's also EM pulses," Wheeljack explained. "The right frequency can trigger the pleasure nodes and sensors just as well as physical touch can, in the right place. Gives an option to pretty much any mech, even if they weren't designed with physical interfacing in mind."

"Cool," Jake grinned, delighted with the idea of such a simple but alien way of pleasure, and that he was talking to an individual that could increase his sexual options the same way Jake installed a new weapon on Stormshock. "How else do lovers have fun?"

"Hmm, spike-and-valve, EM pulse, having a good idea of where the sensor nodes are... by the way, you'll want to be careful about Stormy's wings from now on," he added in an off-hand manner. "Cable-interfacing's probably the most common approach, second to the spark-merge. And that one's mostly because it's pretty well universal, in a serious coupling."

Jake nodded, falling silent as he processed the rush of information.

"You've got a lot of options," he grinned up at the big mech he'd started to consider a friend even before he found out what he really was. "Careful as in not to hurt her, or careful as in not to turn her on?"

"A bit of both, really," Wheeljack admitted after thinking it over for a minute. "Her wings are pretty much her primary tactile sensor system, especially since she started out as a jet instead of a mech. So depending on what you're doing with them, she might need to dial down the sensitivity to be comfortable with it, and she won't have that much experience with the idea yet."

"Gotcha," Jake nodded seriously, going from playful to deadly serious in a heartbeat. "I'll make sure she knows to talk to me about it. At least she's already familiar with what we do to her wings, even if the level of sensor data is different now." He paused, suddenly thinking about some things he'd seen. "Should we still wash her, or should be come to one of your bases to clear up? I don't want to hurt her social time..."

"I'd say that both is probably best. It's important that she keeps her bond with you two, but there is some social bonding she'll be able to do, especially with the other flyers, here. Washing up isn't as important a bonding event for us as it is for kats though, from what I've gathered," he pointed out.

Jake gave him a confused look, then laughed. "It's not normally any kind of social event for kats. Most clean up alone. I just have a serious water fetish that Chance indulges."

"Ah, I'd thought that it was more of a bonding issue, particularly with a young member of the family," Wheeljack explained. "It used to be more of an issue, I just keep forgetting how _fast_ things move with you organics."

"Ah ... I guess it might be," Jake had to think about it. "Usually just with the mom though. I may be married, but kittens haven't really been a subject for us."

"Maybe not for you and Chance, but Stormshock _does_ think of you as her creator. She might not be thinking of it the same way, but from a Cybertronian perspective that _would_ make you her parent," Wheeljack pointed out, pausing in case Jake reacted to the idea badly.

Instead the kat nodded. "Makes sense. Never thought of her as a kitten, but she's _always_ been my baby, even when she was just a jet. Have you picked up enough from her to tell whether she's following kat maturity patters, Cybertronian, or something her own?"

"Cybertronian, or at least close enough to it to count. Of course, she's matured _much_ faster than any Seeker hatchling could have, but a certain amount of that is probably necessity," Wheeljack mused. "More along the lines of what the Aerialbots managed, with a much better ability to 'straighten up' than most of them had at her age. It's not unexpected though. Sparked warriors tend to have that split, from what I've seen of them, and as much as I designed the Aerials so they _would_ be warriors, it's not where my coding is strongest."

"I'm sure her existence as a fighter jet, then an AI fighter before she was sparked, added to the split for her," Jake mused. "She's as pure warrior as things come."

"It's going to serve her well," Wheeljack admitted. "Unless we get lucky and drop the 'Cons fast, Aristal's going to be in for something that very few kats are ready for. You and Chance are about the best equipped for it, and that's compared to several governments I've seen. The good news is that you're a lot better equipped to _meet_ it than we ever were, culturally."

"To most kats, they're just be more Omegas," Jake sighed. "Just more of the same destructive weirdness that shows up every month. I'm not sure you're going to have an easy time convincing most governments to treat them any differently. As disturbing as it is, the damage the Seekers did is light compared to many attacks."

"That's exactly the point, Jake. Aristal... it's _used_ to this. It has the forces it needs to be able to handle it, even if they're not technologically up to specs. The Decepticons will look like Omegas at first. I suspect it won't take them long to be recognized as very dangerous Omegas, given how many of them there are and their organization. But you've got the start of the infrastructure to handle that, and you'll be able to put the rest of it together in the blink of an eye, from our perspective. You're capable of moving and reacting so much _faster_ than we are, on a large scale. I suspect it comes with the short lifespan."

"That and at least in the MKC area, it's move fast or die," Jake said grimly. "Have you sent agents into the non-technological areas? Veldt, Tusandrin, Abrill and such."

"Tusandrin is non-technological?" Perceptor asked curiously. "That seems unusual, considering Khan Industries and the other resources there."

"Okay, so maybe non-technological is the wrong term. High magic still sounds weird," Jake shrugged. "And keep an optic on Khan. Kat's an Omega if he ever decides to use it."

"We've got one of the best possible choices nearby," Wheeljack chuckled. "Though I'm inclined to agree with you. If we're lucky, the Cons will overlook Tusandrin at first. If their first attempt to go in is overt, it's likely to work out much better for us. If they attempt to go in covertly, it's more of a coin toss."

Jake considered that for a while, then shook his head. "I'm not so sure. It's hard to take over a monarchy like that overtly or covertly. It's been tried. Tusandrin gets left alone for _good_ reason. MKC may have the military, but that kat ... mages are _evil_ to try and beat."

"We don't have much experience with them to go on," Wheeljack admitted. "I still want to get a chance to study what happens when one of them starts casting spells, it's _definitely_ beyond what we've got any experience with."

"Stick around, you'll get an opportunity," Jake tried not to smirk. "Between Past Master, Dark Kat and the random annoyance, one'll show up once or twice a year. Or just head out to Veldt or Tusandrin's royal palace. Those places _live_ on magic."

"The creeplings?" Wheeljack guessed. "We have noticed that about those places. We suspect it has something to do with the Allspark energy being manipulated in an unusual way."

"And what Dark Kat does with tech," Jake nodded. "He builds things _I_ have trouble understanding, and I can follow _Cybertronian_ tech just fine."

"Which, of course, _does_ present interesting theories about how magic might interact with Cybertronian systems," Perceptor offered. "It might create all manner of strange phenomena if that _is_ the case, from personality shifts to physical invigoration to... well, let's just say that it _might_ make Seekers particularly useless for the Decepticons."

Jake raised an eye ridge at the more logical scientist. "Something to do with why anything with wings is spending as little time on planet as they can manage?"

"Perceptor, I'm _shocked_ that you'd think of such a thing," Wheeljack laughed. "Remind me to suggest that theory to Jazz, he'd like it. Yes, Jake, that's what he was thinking about. If it _is_ some sort of Allspark energy manipulation, then hypothetically it could induce a hard generative state in any exposed Seeker. So if somebody were to cast a spell on two or three selected individuals, it'd make for one heck of a show while we worked on polishing off the ground-pounders who were left. If nothing else, it would help whittle down the 'Con's advantage with the Seekers. Not as well as getting Starscream out of circulation, but pretty damned well all the same."

"Just as long as they don't follow local tradition and decide to nest on Megakat Tower," Jake snickered, though there was a grim edge to it. "Every other alien that's been knocked up in the area has."

"Well, if they did, it _would_ be one way to upgrade the place's security," Wheeljack chuckled. "Fortunately, the nesting stage of things waits a while. The sparks and protoforms have to develop before the eggs are ready."

Jake blinked. "Seekers really _do_ hatch ... from eggs?"

Perceptor nodded. "They are a truly fascinating type of Cybertronian. Quite new and very different from everyone else from their reproductive method to core programming, even to how they organize and define themselves socially. They are like nothing else Cybertron has produced."

"So what about Skyfire? Is he a Seeker?" Jake focused on Wheeljack.

"Half-Seeker. His sire was a Seeker, his carrier an Aerial ... what we call the non-helo fliers that aren't Seekers. So he's an Aerial, Seeker-kin. We aren't completely sure," Wheeljack admitted. "He knows that with a Seeker sire they hatch from eggs. With a grounder, non-Seeker-kin ... there's a lot more room for debate. We'll be finding out eventually, at any rate. There are other methods there, and the good news is that Sky's built pretty well for any of them."

Jake just nodded, close to his limit for truly weird ideas in one hour, when Wheeljack perked up.

"Speak of the devil," Wheeljack chuckled and waved to them as he turned to leave. "I've been summoned. Be back in a day or two."

"Skyfire is awake and wants his mate," Perceptor translated. "Do you mind if I ask a few questions about the targeting helmet you designed for the Turbokat?" He asked, bringing up the schematics from the Yard.

"Go for it," Jake agreed, relaxing back on his hands as he reduced his studying to watching how Perceptor's parts moved and interacted as the mech moved.

"The main thing I'm wondering about is how it handles the data transfer. Is it a transfer of telemetry data from the helmet to the weapons, or is it some sort of neural input?"

"The original design was simple telemetry and didn't control firing," Jake settled in for a technical discussion. "Last year I worked out the neural link, but never really did anything with it since Stormshock could handle it far better than the helmet. What got your curiosity going? It seems like pretty basic tech around here."

"Yes, but the neural linkup with kat neurology isn't," Perceptor explained, bringing up schematics of what looked like small, very basic, Cybertronian frames. "These are exosuits that we've designed for emergency use by other species," he explained. "I believe that I can improve on them significantly. If we could build Cybertronian frames that could be controlled by a trained organic pilot, it would help to overcome how _very_ limited our numbers are. We wouldn't have to wait vorn for new Cybertronians to be sparked and trained... or have to raise an entire generation to fight a war that we hope will actually be _ending_," he admitted.

"Were as we adapt to war and peace with relative ease, plus the short lifespans," Jake nodded. "Easily enough to do, really, between my linking research and Dr. Hackle's download research."

"And there's already a large number of you who would be able to be trained," Perceptor agreed. "We'd be at the point where the primary limiting factor would be our ability to produce enough frames, and willing volunteers, though considering the Enforcers are fully staffed I suspect there's a large number of those as well."

"Volunteers won't be an issue," Jake agreed. "Volunteers that pass a proper psych exam, that'll be harder. You're right though, about the limit being how fast you can produce frames. You'll want to be _very_ careful about how smart you make the frames or they might just end up sparked."

"Oh, we can definitely prevent that from happening," Perceptor said confidently. "We won't build then any smarter than a standard training drone, and we haven't had one of those develop a spark in remembered history, unless you believe some of the stories about Ironhide," he chuckled.

Jake joined him, then went serious. "Can you tell if the Metallikats will develop a spark?"

"I suppose it's possible, though unlikely if they haven't already," Perceptor decided after a bit of thought. "You seem concerned by the possibility?"

"Beyond politics getting ugly and lifespan, these are kat minds in there. If they get sparks, they'll figure out how to have kittens pretty fast," Jake said quietly. "They are _not_ people you want raising the next generation."

"Well, politics wouldn't be an issue for us," Perceptor told him. "They might have sparks, but with everything else they'd be recognized as native criminals, sparked or not. We certainly wouldn't be offering them asylum, if that's your concern. As for sparklings... I find that _very_ unlikely, from what I know of their educational levels. Their built-in technology is insufficient to produce protoforms, and they don't have the ability themselves; I'd think that only a handful of individuals or even companies on Aristal would come close."

"Agreed," Jake nodded, his expression still grim. "Unfortunately they know exactly who to corner and how to get it done. Professor Hackle would be their first choice. There's no way he'd condemn a kitten because of its parents. Neither could I, for that matter. Then there's Dark Kat..." he shuddered at the prospects of what that maniac could do with a new spark and most of a century to figure out how to best use it.

"Jake, there's a very strong chance that any spark they _did_ manage to kindle would be reabsorbed before it was able to survive on its own," Perceptor pointed out. "Even during the best of times the rates of reabsorbing a sparkling have been markedly high compared to your modern live-birth rates. It's one of the reasons most Cybertronians moved away from reproducing in that particular manner. Neither of the Metallikats has the energy stores, or place for them, that would be necessary."

Jake hummed thoughtfully. "But now you're back to it. At least you still have some who never gave it up to learn from. I can't imagine the chaos that would cause in systems unprepared for it."

"Certainly not pleasant," Perceptor agreed. "Though Ratchet is familiar with emergency upgrades to make space, and he'll probably be training the rest of Medical once it starts to happen outside of Seekers and others built for it. It's not like organic females who have a tubal pregnancy, or what would happen if a male became pregnant."

Jake could only shudder at the idea. It was just so _wrong_ on so many levels. He was saved from following that thought for long by the door opening to admit an unexpected face.

"Jake, please come with me," Prowl asked with formal politeness as he stepped to the table and offered his hands to the kat. "The Seekers have shown themselves and your city is currently under attack. The Aerialbots are already under way to deal with the situation."


	21. Storm in Space

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Brainstorm/Stormshock/Cloudraker  
><strong>Rating<strong>: R for mech/femme/mech  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Het, First Time  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>text<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 21<p>**

* * *

><p>Brainstorm was actually focused for once in his life, watching Stormshock practicing against Dogfight's hardlight stand-ins for the Rainmakers. It was clear that she still preferred her jet mode, but she was starting to grasp more and more combat uses for her mech body and transformation. Watching her evolve tactically was fascinating, almost as much as the very idea of how quickly she'd developed from a spontaneous sparking to the point she was at now in less than a metacycle.<p>

Watching her grace in the air was fascinating on an entirely different level. She was sparked for the air and it _showed_. Less than a metacycle old and she was as good in her jet mode as most battle-experienced Actions were after a hundred vorns. Though she was still a hatchling compared to her opponents and the mech controlling the hardlights, her sheer audacity and decisiveness in combat, her absolute fearlessness, made his spark cry out to court her and complete his trine. He and Cloudraker had been without an Action for so long they'd gotten used to it, but now ... he _wanted_ her at his side so badly it hurt.

That she wasn't technically a Seeker didn't matter. She was one in all the ways that mattered; he was just glad that Cloudraker had agreed with him on that front. He started thinking about how he should go about this, but stopped himself before he got too far. He couldn't let himself over think this. He had a reason to talk to her, he had an idea of how to start... that would have to do for now. After all, as Fastlane had teased him when he'd talked to Cloudraker, she wasn't a science project.

More than a little intriguing as one, but he'd have time to come to that later.

::Mind a little company in the air up there?:: He asked her over the comm, using her native language.

::Not at all,:: she responded cheerfully, her good mood at the aerial sparing all but oozing over the comm.

::I'll be up shortly,:: he promised her, keying his access code to the sparring chamber to open the door, walking in and leaping into the air as he transformed into his Cybertronian jet form, flying up to join her. His purple and silver frame, long and slender, looked almost more like a stunt jet than a fighter, except for the quartet of blast-cannons he sported, two at his nose and one under each wing.

::Pretty, but can you take a hit?:: she asked as she darted around Stormfront and twisted to open fire on Acid Storm.

::When I have to,:: he told her, quickly analyzing the fight. ::Dampen your visual sensors,:: he warned her, before opening fire with his photon cannons, unleashing a staccato, strobing blast of light that let him get up into the fray.

::Sweet!:: Stormshock reacted as she came around to open fire on Solar Storm when the yellow Seeker was momentarily dazed. ::What else can you do?::

::Well, I can make those explosive instead, but maintenance tends to get whiny when I do,:: he chuckled, taking a few low-yield shots at the hardlight Seeker, the two of them knocking him out of the air. ::How about you? Figure out any new tricks?::

::My favorite,:: she trilled as energy crackled around her frame, a force shield that held close to her frame, and sliced Acid Storm's wing clean off with her own. The field disengaged as soon as she was clear to save energy.

::You're going to make Ratchet fry what's left of his circuits,:: Brainstorm snickered. ::Want to try something new? How well does that thing deflect visible-light weaponry?::

::Very well so far,:: she said eagerly, picking up that he had an idea even if she wasn't entirely sure of what yet. ::What's the plan?::

::I'm thinking that you might be able to vector a shot off into a target that doesn't see it coming,:: he explained briefly. ::Up for a low-yield test?::

::Sure,:: she agreed eagerly.

They both heard Dogfight's resigned groan over the open comm.

::_Very_ low yield for the initial test,:: Brainstorm clarified even as he extended a ping with Stormshock so they could synchronize their systems to coordinate the attack. Something that would become reflexive and much easier if she became trine. ::Ratchet's going to be irritable enough over this as it is. Let me know when you're ready,:: he told her.

::Decepticon backup incoming,:: Dogfight warned them. ::Elite and Conehead trines.::

::Ready,:: Stormshock powered up her shield.

It was in that moment that Brainstorm realized what else the shield did: it made her light up his sensor grid. It made her nearly invulnerable for a short time, but it would draw the attention of every Cybertronian in range as well.

He took the shot, calculating the necessary angle to hit Stormfront while minimizing any damage he might do to her if the shield didn't work as anticipated. He didn't have to worry; his shot caromed off the field and into its intended target, knocking him out of the air.

::Drop the shield, _fast_,:: he warned her. ::The energy output lights you up like a small star, you'll want to watch that.::

::Understood,:: she responded and dropped the shield and they turned to face the incoming trines. ::It's _insanely_ power-hungry too.::

She wiggled her tail playfully and slid under him to come even on his far side. It was a social invitation that at her stage of physical development usually meant an invitation to her berth, an acceptance of him near her and friendly. He forcefully reminded himself that she had _not_ been raised Seeker and was spark-achingly young despite her physical maturity. There was a very good chance that she didn't grasp what the maneuver meant to him. She likely only knew it as anything because of protocols downloaded from Seekers and Seeker-kin ... how much of that she'd integrated was very much up for debate.

He wasn't even sure if she had interfacing protocols installed yet.

Now _that_ was a conversation he wasn't really looking forward to opening up. He hadn't had to worry about it before, and he honestly didn't have a clue how to bring it up without being _amazingly_ forward.

Still, the best way to talk to her would require getting her out of the training sim and out to fly around without distractions. That, he was pretty sure he could do.

::How hard would it be to talk you into going out for a little space-flight practice after this round?:: He asked her cheerfully.

::However hard it will be to get Ratchet to clear me,:: she replied gleefully as she pushed her engines and darted forward to challenge Ramjet at his own game. ::Love to go.::

::I'll probably have clearance before we're through,:: Brainstorm grinned. Normally, he'd be wincing already, but he was curious just how she'd handle this. He knew how Stargrazer would have, but he hadn't had the force shield that Stormstrike did.

Stargazer also never had the youthful sense of invulnerability to back it up at quite the level Stormshock did. Everything in him screamed at him to have her stop, to not crash nose-first into a mech _designed_ to ram things, but he held himself back.

She had a force shield after all, and she wasn't shy about using it. Not only did she take Ramjet on, she literally _shattered_ him as her engines powered her shielded frame completely through his chassis.

::One Conehead down,:: he cheered her on, firing on Thrust. What she would do with Dirge, at least if they kept his special engines in the simulation, would be a real test. Even as he fired on Thrust, he paid close attention to the blue Conehead, ready to intervene if necessary. If she panicked, as so many did against his sub-sonic vibrations, it could be a real disaster on multiple fronts. She could go through multiple decks, maybe the entire ship, before calming down or reaching open space.

Thrust was keeping him busy, but not too busy to watch Stormshock and keep a sharp optic on her readings. It wasn't as effective as a trine-bond, but his sensors would tell him if she panicked at least.

Thrust gunned his engines in an attempt to intimidate Brainstorm, but he didn't let it get the better of him. Instead, he angled himself and fired what the computers would call a full-yield blast from his photon cannons at the distraction, just as Dirge swept over Stormshock, firing on her even as he tried to let his engines do their work, setting up the unsettling vibrations through her frame.

Her spark rate jumped, systems went into overdrive, but she didn't waver in swinging around and firing on Dirge. ::You think that'll work on somebody who'd _died_ before?:: she snarled at him, fear morphing into rage.

The hardlight Dirge tried to swerve out of the way, but caught a barrage of heat-seekers that took him out of the fight. Brainstorm issued a ping to the system to put the next round on hold, and flew up closer to Stormshock.

::You okay?:: He asked her gently.

::Fine ... he's _irritating_,:: she growled, her systems calming more slowly than most, but they were calming.

::It's what he's good at. I've seen battle-hardened mechs panic after dealing with those engines of his long enough. I still want to try and get a proper sample, see if I can devise a countermeasure, but it's tricky to do. So, get out of here, get some flight time in?::

::Go ahead,:: Dogfight said. ::I've got plenty to base your combat ratings on for now.::

::Then let's go,:: Stormshock did a delighted spiral around him in flight.

::We need to land long enough to get to the airlock,:: he teased lightly, leading her on down and transforming near the ground.

"You're _really_ good," he told her honestly. "One of the best I've seen in a long time, especially for your age."

"Thanks," she grinned, setting down in mech form with relative grace, though it was still clear to Brainstorm that it wasn't her native form. As graceful as she was managing with all her extra bits, it wasn't the grace of a normal Seeker. "That is what I was built for, sparked into. My very first shakedown flight, even before I had an AI installed, turned into combat."

"I read about it in your file," he nodded slightly. "Do you remember it, or were you told the details later?"

"Jake and Chance like to joke about it," she smiled, the look a bit odd given she had a kat-like muzzle. "I don't really _remember_ anything before the AI stage, though a few events I have the data for I can extrapolate what happened."

"I wasn't sure how much you could recall," he said easily. "Any particular stories you feel like sharing?" He asked her as they walked to the airlock. "Oh, and do you mind if my wingleader Cloudraker joins us? He'll probably be out flying around already."

"Don't mind at all. I need formation practice. A lot of it," she grimaced. "From the moment Jake conceived of me, I've been a solo flier. Usually up against multiple opponents. This part of an army business it just not normal."

"Wasn't normal for most of us," he pointed out as they reached the air lock. "Us Seekers had it a bit easier, since we're used to flying in trines. We'll be glad to help you get used to it, though," he added, pinging her to open a private comm line for the three of them to share in space.

::I'd like that,:: she smiled, shivering at the utterly alien sensation of the atmosphere being sucked away from her, into the ship, before the airlock opened for them. ::Why do you fly in trines?::

::Started out as a standard grouping, but these days it's deeper than that,:: he explained, floating out into space before transforming into his Cybertronian jet form. ::A trine supports itself, holds itself together. Each member of it fills needs of the other two.::

A red and gray jet that looked more like the designs Stormshock was used to approached them.

::Stormshock, this is Cloudraker,:: Brainstorm introduced her.

::Pleasure to meet you,:: Cloudraker said, his voice deep and relaxed.

::Hi,:: she waggled her wings in greeting. ::You've been planetside?::

::Ah, no,:: he said, just a little nervously. ::I'm not really built to manage escape velocity on my own, so getting back out would be tricky for me,:: he explained.

::Cloudraker's alt developed along the line of a model of low-altitude jets, rather than a space-faring one,:: Brainstorm explained. ::I keep telling him it's because he was sparked to keep his trine well-grounded,:: he teased lightly.

Stormshock was quiet for a long moment, then tipped her wings to slide around Cloudraker's alt in a slow, careful spiral, her scanners wide open.

::Why not upgrade your engines?:: she finally asked. ::Your frame can take it, same as my old one.::

::Wasn't really a problem on Cybertron, then we were spaceside... it comes up seldom enough that I don't usually worry about it. Right now, Ratchet's got his hands full enough without having to worry about upgrading me,:: Cloudraker explained.

::He could spare the time. If he couldn't, Wheeljack or Perceptor could handle it easily. I could even handle the upgrades, if you wanted to keep it in the family,:: Brainstorm added, silently pinging Stormshock for a more private comm line.

::Don't push him too hard on it, but thanks for bringing it up. We've had this conversation a lot, but he doesn't like it.::

::Oh,:: she accepted dropping the subject. ::Like Chance and swimming before he got turned into a frog. Pride, denial. I understand.::

::Right,:: Brainstorm agreed.

::Maybe when we don't have to worry about getting called into action while they're being worked on,:: Cloudraker said, ignorant of the side conversation. ::Besides, for now, we've still got the other options if I do need to go planetside and then get back into orbit. So, interested in a spin around the moon?:: He asked, looking to change the topic.

::Absolutely!:: Stormshock grinned and gunned her engines. ::It'll be fun to take that spin without the guys making a mess in my cockpit.::

::**Do we _want_ to know?**:: Cloudraker asked Brainstorm as he turned to take the least position in the formation.

::**Probably not,**:: Brainstorm chuckled. ::**Though I'm guessing from fooling around, from what Wheeljack and the others indicate.**::

::Yap,:: Stormshock giggled. ::They're a couple horny kats. Doesn't matter that they've been together over a decade.::

::Mind taking my right wing?:: Cloudraker asked her.

::Sure thing,:: she trilled and slid over, settling into formation.

She kept a bit more distance than Brainstorm did from him, and it didn't take long for the Seekers to realize it had nothing to do with social conventions. It only took a momentary wavering of her focus for her to slide out of place. If she'd been much closer, she'd have collided with Cloudraker.

::If you link your telemetry feed into ours, it might be a bit easier to keep track of your position,:: Brainstorm suggested. ::Give you a little more warning before somebody changes where they're going.::

::Okay,:: she agreed easily, though her effort to create the link was clumsy at best. She had the protocols, but they didn't come naturally to her as they would a true Seeker.

::**She might not be Seeker enough,**:: Cloudraker said on a private line to Brainstorm.

::**My spark seems to think she is,**:: he replied.

::**Are you sure that's not lust?**:: Cloudraker suggested. ::**She's a _looker_, a remarkable fighter and it's been a long time since there was any chance of a new Action.**::

::**She's _young_, Cloud,**:: Brainstorm pointed out. ::**And she wasn't given all the Seeker protocols to start out with, Ratchet and Wheeljack wouldn't have thought along those lines. Give her a chance. She was sparked as a solo flyer, but she's already used to working in her own type of trine. It just happens to involve two organics inside her instead of two Seekers covering her tail.**::

::**She's an Action, I'll give you that,**:: Cloudraker admitted. ::**It would be nice to have a real trine. She'll join one eventually, I'm sure. Too many are missing an Action for her to be left alone, even if she isn't a real Seeker.**::

::**And with some time and patience, I think the difference will start disappearing,**:: Brainstorm told him patiently. ::**I'm _sick_ of thinking myself into processor lock, Cloudraker. She actually _wants_ to fit in with us, too,**:: he pointed out. ::**Major point in her favor.**::

::**True,**:: he agreed only a little reluctantly, adjusting his flight systems to account for her inexperience. ::**It's odd to think that she's barely a metacycle old. It just doesn't seem right. She flies, fights, so well for an Aerial that age.**::

::You know, if you wanted to talk about me, you didn't need to invite me to listen to the silent buzz of encrypted traffic,:: Stormshock commented.

::Sorry,:: Brainstorm dipped his wings apologetically. ::It's been a long time since we've had anybody else on our frequency, unless you count Fastlane.::

::Oh, he counts, and he knows it,:: Cloudraker grumbled.

::He's Cloud's younger brother, built off the same code despite having a grounder body. Half the time I think he's trying to get airborne despite it,:: Brainstorm teased lightly.

::How'd that happen?:: she asked, openly curious. ::How does he fit into your trine?::

::It was an experiment, really early in the war,:: Brainstorm explained. ::Most Seekers had gone over to the 'Cons, and it was before the push to build Aerials and the Aerialbots. Given how fast Autobot trines were losing their Actions, somebody had the idea to try cloning Seeker coding in Grounder bodies, so standard Autobots could help fill in Seeker trines. Cloudraker and Fastlane were more successful than most, but it just doesn't work without somebody who can join the wing. It's why even most Aerials don't work out, they're just not... _right_, for it.::

::As for how he fits in the trine, it's as the unofficial fourth position, 'pain in the aft,':: Cloudraker grumbled. ::Some orns I think he _tries_ to get into trouble.::

::That's because he _does_, Cloud, and you always get him out of it,:: Brainstorm chuckled good-naturedly.

::Like a good older brother,:: Stormshock snickered, waggling her wings playfully. ::He'll never grow up if you don't make him.::

::I'm working on it,:: Cloudraker sighed. ::I do my best, he just never _listens_.::

Stormshock was quiet for a moment.

::He won't,:: she said quietly. ::You have to stop bailing him out of trouble. Make him face the consequences. That is, if you _really_ want him to stop relying on your protection.::

::I'll try it a few times. At least when he's not on the front lines. He's a good scout and messenger, but that means that he's up in the line of fire a _lot_.::

::Not as much here,:: Brainstorm offered. ::We'll be the ones working from a defensive position for once. We've got _options_ here, if things work out.::

Stormshock chuckled darkly, the first real showing of how her nature as a pure warrior could go wrong very quickly. ::Believe me, even if things don't work out, we'll make them work out. We don't lose.::

::We'll find a way,:: Brainstorm agreed. ::Honestly, this is our best chance in the last several worlds. We've got the Winglord here, and he doesn't have Megatron to pull his aft out of the fire. If we can capture him or take him down, it changes everything.::

::Starscream,:: she rumbled, databanks supplying information that she quickly integrated into her working memory. ::Yes ... but he'll be as easy to take as Dark Kat.::

::Never said it'd be easy,:: Brainstorm pointed out. ::He's the Winglord for a reason, and that nullifier of his makes taking him down especially hard. Cloudraker almost managed it once, but Skywarp and Thundercracker kept us busy until he could get out of the gravity well he created.::

::My main weapons are a pair of gravity-rifles,:: Cloudraker explained. ::I can cut it out completely, or increase it enough to ground just about anything. Unfortunately, I can't maintain it forever without having some _nasty_ effects on the surroundings.::

::Very cool,:: Stormshock nearly purred. ::Does it work out here?::

::It does, but I'd have to crank the power up to do too much this far from anything,:: Cloudraker explained. ::Closer to a planetary surface, or if we were closer to the moon, the combination of gravitational pulls usually cause a crash. This far out, the main effect it would have is to pull us closer. Which _can_ be useful sometimes,:: he admitted. ::Harder to outrun somebody when you're pulling them into orbit around you.::

::But it's much harder for _them_ to escape that way,:: she commented thoughtfully. ::What about centering it on a mech inside an asteroid belt?::

::_Very_ effective, and we've used it before,:: Brainstorm confirmed. ::Actually used that trick to get away from the Nemesis once. Didn't do enough damage to destroy it, unfortunately, but it slowed them down for repairs for a good long time. It's also handy for making it so a target can't dodge so well. Rockets and bullets get pulled right in. Doesn't work at a high enough level to pull energy weapons in though.::

::If the Elite trine can be lured somewhere like an asteroid belt you could smash them?:: she suggested. ::Or at least the two that can't teleport.::

::Actually, it might even affect Skywarp's teleportation matrix,:: Brainstorm said, starting to think it over. ::If we increased his relative mass sufficiently, it could throw off his computer's ability to calculate the proper dilation factor and trigger the safeties that he has to have built in, in order to avoid teleporting into something or missing his target location. At the very least, if my calculations are right, it would slow down how quickly he could -:: Brainstorm was cut off with a static squawk as he broke formation, veering off sharply. He rejoined the wing as quickly as he could, but it was a few nanokliks before he spoke again.

::Sorry about that,:: he said sheepishly. ::Starting to overheat a bit running the numbers. I'll wait until we're back at the ship before I go any further down that line, I think.::

::Jake is _really_ good with cooling systems,:: she offered.

::I might take him up on that offer, after Wheeljack and I have a chance to look over a few designs,:: he admitted. ::I'm getting _really_ sick of that happening. Remember what I was telling you about trines, and how each member of it supports the other two?::

::Yes,:: she tipped her nose fractionally in a nod. ::That you only have two is part of the problem?::

::Yeah. Each part of the trine helps to moderate the other two from going too far. Vision, the left wing, keeps the long-game in mind, thinks things through, works on tactical planning and arrangements. Action, the right wing, is the 'doing' part of the trine, the part that keeps Vision grounded in the present and keeps the short-term goals in mind. Order, the wing's lead, covers a bit of both. Short-term, combat tactics, a lot of the politics and such that require a firm hand on both the long game and short-term consequences, that sort of thing.::

::And keeping Vision and Action from ripping out each other's optics,:: Cloudraker teased. ::The two wings tend to get impatient with each other from time to time, for obvious reasons. We haven't had an Action for vorns, and it doesn't help our little quirks at all.::

She processed that for a while as they swung around to the dark side of the moon.

::How do you find a new trine member?::

::Find somebody who fits the missing role, who we both like and who likes us enough to join the wing,:: Cloudraker explained.

::There's some talk about 'spark harmonics' with the old-timers, but I haven't heard that raised as an issue since before we left Cybertron,:: Brainstorm added. ::I have a feeling that it's more something that used to be used as code for 'I don't really like you, but I don't want to say it that way because we have to work together.'::

::Gotcha,:: she chuckled, playfully dipping into the lighter gravity well of the moon, a mass that even Cloudraker could escape from. ::Sounds like the psych profiles that Enforcers use with pilot/gunner teams. Of course, they have a few months to get it right ... are trines permanent?::

::For all intents and purposes,:: Brainstorm told her. ::Not all trines are spark bonded, but it's close to it. Usually a new member will be an unofficial part of the trine for a vorn or two before any permanent decisions, just to make sure it'll work out. A poorly fitting member of a trine can be worse than not having the third point at all.::

::I don't doubt it,:: she groaned and shuddered. ::Felina and Uly are _not_ a good team in the cockpit. Drove me crazy and I only had to deal with them for one battle.::

::How'd that happen?:: Brainstorm asked her.

::One of Past Master's plots. He and the Metallikats took over after killing us, but they betrayed him, so he dragged us to the future to fix things. The Ferals ended up in my cockpit. The issue was that Uly's a pilot and Felina a gunner, but he ranks her. It was six kinds of ugly, even if they did the job as a distraction. I didn't actually _need_ them along to do that.::

::So why were they along? Jake didn't want to let on that you could fly yourself yet?:: Cloudraker asked.

::I guess,:: she said uncertainly. ::Or maybe he was being nice to them. Or something was going on I don't know about.::

::I'd put my energon on wanting to keep them as safe as he could,:: Brainstorm suggested. ::Inside you, he knew you'd take care of them. If they'd tried to go through on their own, without you, which their profiles suggest they would have tried to do, it would probably have ended with their deaths, and a future that not only had been freed from the Metallikats, but had nobody else to protect it against other Omegas reappearing.::

::But that future never happened,:: she objected. ::Never _would_ happen. We didn't die.::

::All of that works out to the question of divergent time streams and alternate universes,:: Brainstorm pointed out. ::We don't know enough about time travel to be sure of how it works out. It's happened a few times, but very rarely. Somebody like your Past Master is completely outside of our experience, thankfully.::

::Not for long,:: she assured him. ::The little troll is a total pain in the aft that can't be killed. I've _tried_.::

::Sounds like you hate him almost as much as Dark Kat,:: Cloudraker observed. ::Anything in particular?::

::Besides an absolute _fixation_ on all times pre-technology and being _undead_, nah, not really,:: her tone was half joking, half frustrated fury. ::Dark Kat I can respect on a level. He's _good_ in the same way Jake is. That troll is nothing of the sort,:: her wings quivered at the memories, terrifying stretches of being trapped in times where she couldn't be repaired, couldn't even _fuel_ if they stayed too long. Places with no chatter, no one to talk to, nothing to fight.

::Cybertron never really had a time like that, at least not that any of our records acknowledge,:: Brainstorm admitted. ::Everything's been at least mostly mechanical for our entire history. Probably drive him as crazy as he drives you.::

::I want to dump him there then,:: she said with a vindictive glee. ::After all the trips he's sent me on, it's only be fair to send him on a couple.::

::Unfortunately, it probably wouldn't stick,:: Brainstorm pointed out. ::From your records, it sounds as though you've stranded him in time without the watch that enables his magic before?::

::Yes, and shredded his book, but he can only move through _time_,:: she purred. ::Not space.::

::It could be _disastrous_ if Cybertron learned about Aristal even a few vorn earlier, let alone a longer period of time,:: Cloudraker countered. ::Plus the damage he could do siding with the Decepticons in our past is ... incalculateble.::

A wordless grumble acknowledged the truth, or at least accepted it as the truth.

::I'm sure we'll find some other way to deal with him,:: Brainstorm reassured her. ::After we've sorted things out with the 'Cons, we'll have some time to work on how to control him permanently.::

::Stasis,:: she suggested, even if she had no clue how to pull it off. ::Can't cause trouble in stasis.::

::True enough. Just need to find a way to get him in it. You've been out around the moon a few times, haven't you?:: Brainstorm asked her.

::Yap,:: she happily took the new subject. ::First to test the Speed of Heat upgrades, then just for fun.::

::Ever land and take a look around at it up-close? Be a chance to get some time in your alt without Cloudraker needing a lift to get back to the Ark.::

::No and sure,:: she agreed easily and angled down, forgetting she was part of a unit for the moment. ::I can give you a pull out of any gravity well you need,:: she offered. ::Actually, have you tried to use that grav-gun to help you get off planet?::

::Shooting myself with it is a little tricky,:: Cloudraker pointed out, both of them shifting their flight wordlessly to get back into formation. ::But yeah, I've tried a few different ways. It's hard to pull off.::

::Well you can always ask me for a tow into space,:: she offered as she transformed to land on the powdery surface. ::I have more than enough power for it.::

::Thanks for the offer,:: he replied gratefully, landing next to her, Brainstorm landing a few moments later.

::Mind if I ask a question about the programs you've picked up since your rebuild?:: Brainstorm asked her. ::I'm curious just how much of the Seeker behaviors you've picked up are something you downloaded, or things you've noticed.::

::Some I came on line with, most I think were loaded with the rebuild, a few I picked up by watching,:: she said thoughtfully. ::I'm starting to figure out a lot of the Seeker stuff is actually tagged Aerial by mistake.::

::A lot of the Aerials have to fit in with Seeker trines,:: Cloudraker explained. ::Any Aerial with wings generally picks up a good share of Seeker protocols as a matter of course, just in case they find a good fit. Powerglide's a good example. If he could find a trine he fit in with, he'd be an incredible Action. He's just too much of a showflyer at this point.::

::I expect there was a lot of crossover between combat-inclined Seekers and combat-inclined Aerials even before the war,:: she added with a flick of her wings that amounted to a thoughtful shrug. ::Convergent evolution and all that. Same reason I had a fair number in common even before Ratchet rebuilt me.::

::Oh yeah, there was,:: Brainstorm agreed. ::So did you realize that you were flirting back in the sim room?:: He asked her directly.

The pause was clue enough that it hadn't been intentional.

::Sort of,:: she answered. ::I wasn't _thinking_ about it, but I take after Chance too.::

The Seekers looked at each other.

::We're not quite sure what that means,:: Cloudraker admitted after a few moments to confer with Brainstorm across their bond. ::Afraid we haven't met him.::

::Ah, he'll flirt with anything that isn't trying to kill him, and a few who are,:: she chuckled. ::Kat has a _very_ strong libido. I have whatever the mech equivalent is.::

::Wings,:: Cloudraker and Brainstorm said in unison.

::Prowl's an exception to the rule, or at least pretends to be,:: Cloudraker chuckled.

::Except with Jazz,:: she snickered, fluttering her wings and tail in amusement. ::But then, Jazz is the exception to everything, I think.::

::Just about,:: Brainstorm chuckled. ::Except the wings and libido issue, of course. Interested in figuring out how everything works?::

::Sure,:: she trilled over the comm as she stepped closer. Her tail and ears twitching in excitement right along with her wings.

::Certainly not nervous about it,:: Cloudraker smiled, the two mechs both approaching her.

::Why should I be?:: she asked curiously, already reaching out to touch and explore Brainstorm's chest plates. ::It's about pleasure.::

::You want to take the lead and explore, or let us show you the ropes?:: Brainstorm asked her, reaching to trace his fingers lightly along one of her wings.

Her turbines cycled as he wings pressed into the touch. Her hands moved up, sliding over his shoulders to return the strokes to wide, sensitive wing planes.

::Good start,:: he groaned, sliding his hands around to run along her sides and up to her chest plate, easily taking a more passive role as Cloudraker started stroking her wings from behind.

::You let us know how fast you want to go,:: the red and gray mech told her, touching her gently to start with. ::That first overload can be a bit overwhelming.::

::Mmm, if it's anything like a kat's orgasm, I don't doubt it,:: she purred, her engines cycling up as her arousal grew. Even as she tried to press her wings into the touches of both mechs, relishing the warmth on either side of her so reminiscent of being in her hanger with the still warm air, she closed her fingers around the upper edge of Brainstorm's wings and slid along their full length.

Without really thinking about it she leaned in to press her muzzle against Brainstorm's lip plates and slid her glossa along them, seeking admittance as she'd seen her kats do so often.

His lips parted, his own glossa coming out to meet hers; kissing was something they had too, obviously, and he wasn't half bad at it, though he needed to adjust a little to her short muzzle and guide her inexperienced efforts. He brought a hand up to stroke the back of her helm, then ran a finger along one of her ears. It twitched, seemingly uncertain of the contact.

Then she shuddered and her primary engine roared with a rush of pleasure.

When Cloudraker's claws ran lightly along the flats of her wings, sending little spikes of pleasure through her sensor nodes there, she broke the kiss in her efforts to press into everything and offer her throat to Brainstorm. Her hands faltered briefly before moving off his wings. One curled around his waist and rubbed along his backstrut while the other reached behind her to find Cloudraker's hip and the multiple seams in his armor there.

::Good start,:: Brainstorm rumbled, his own engines heating up as he ran his glossa along the sensitive cables at her throat. He slid his claws gently between the plates at her side, playing them lightly along the surfaces there. ::Anything in particular you want to try?::

::Everything,:: she moaned, her wings beginning to twitch uncontrollably as the charge built. Her EM field reached out, wanting to share her pleasure with those giving it.

The two mechs responded easily, their own fields brushing against hers, each running light pulses along her sensitive surfaces. Brainstorm pressed his mouth to hers in another kiss.

::Don't fight it,:: he told her. ::Let it come, and trust us to take care of you.::

Almost on a whim, Cloudraker reached down with one hand to rub the base of her tail, curious just how she would react to it as he leaned up between her wings to lick the back of her neck, ready for her upcoming overload.

Her cry was vocal, even though the sound was stolen by airless space and she trembled. Her tail flicked up, curling around Cloudraker's chassis to hold him there even more than her clutching hand. The open comm line between the three filled with static and bursts of sound as she lost her fight to experience _more_ before her frame stiffened, every system overloading from the free energy charging through her.

The two mechs felt her charge through their own bodies, grounding out into the lunar surface through them. As her systems started to cycle back on, she could _feel_ how aroused both of them still were, but they were waiting for her to come back online.

She nuzzled Brainstorm and hugged Cloudraker with her tail.

::How would you like to get off?:: she offered as much as asked.

::We can introduce you to how the parts under here work,:: Brainstorm smirked, reaching down to tap the plate over her spike and valve. ::Though you've probably got a pretty decent idea already.::

A deep rumble and both covers sliding open matched the grin and kiss, as well as her hands finding their covers.

::I like the way you think,:: she nuzzled Brainstorm.

::It _does_ tend to grow on you,:: Cloudraker agreed with a low rumble of his own as his own covers retracted.


	22. Progress Report

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>:  
><strong>Rating<strong>:  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover,  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics ./290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>text<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 22: Progress Report<p>**

* * *

><p>"Good to have you both back on Aristal again," T-Bone said as he piloted Stormshock from the Yard to the new base in the Badlands that was being built. "Gets quiet without you around."<p>

"I heard you got some action with the Cons and Dark Kat," Razor chuckled even as he reached forward to scritch T-Bone's jaw. "I missed you too, buddy."

"Eh, not that much," T-Bone purred, pressing into the contact. "Most of it was straightened out before I got on the scene, except for cleaning up and taking out the Creeplings. Never did find Dark Kat, unfortunately. I was sure he was going to show up, but he must have kept his head down."

Razor chuckled. "Still bet you had more fun down here than if you'd stayed with us."

"Depends on how much sleep I made you get," T-Bone smirked. "How was it up there? For both of you," he added.

"Quiet in all the right ways," Razor chuckled. "A lot of politics, a _lot_ of talking ... I could have used your help with socializing, but most of them know enough about technology it wasn't that bad. I wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all if they weren't paying attention to the time. _So_ many cool ideas."

"And _that's_ why you needed me," T-Bone teased.

"I had a great time," Stormshock purred. "Met a partial trine that's courting me and I think I have the who walking on two feet thing down."

"Whoa, hold on, courting you?" T-Bone asked, his train of thought thoroughly derailed.

"To complete their trine," she elaborated. "Brainstorm and Cloudraker are pretty cool. Not sure if I want a trine, or if _they're_ the right one, but it _is_ kinda nice to have someone guarding my tail."

"Just remember you've got the two of us here yet for that, okay?" He asked her. "And let me know when I'll have to go digging for a plasma torch to give the 'if you hurt her, I hurt you worse' speech, okay?" He added jokingly.

There was silence for a long moment, and T-bone felt the tension in her frame before she spoke.

"I know," she eventually responded. "Courting is at least a vorn, longer probably."

"Eighty-three years," Razor supplied. "They're going to be her team after we're long gone."

"Something wrong, Stormy?" T-Bone asked her quietly, focused on the tension and the feeling that he'd said something _very_ wrong.

"Just don't like thinking how much _longer_ I have than either of you," she said quietly. "Never needed to think about it before."

"Hey, don't worry too much about it," T-Bone smiled. "I don't know about you or Razor, but I plan to live forever or die trying."

It succeeded in drawing a snicker from Stormshock, her attention span for serious thought without corresponding action as limited as always.

"Entering Autobot airspace," she switched topics smoothly. "Clearance granted and requested to land on the pad."

"What pad?" T-Bone asked with a frown, checking first for visual, then the sensors.

"Main tower," Stormshock said, focusing his attention on the shielded and sprawling monolith being constructed in the middle of the dead planes of the Badlands, a chunk of terrain that was nominally Megakat City's, but only because no one else had wanted it.

"Whoa; didn't see that coming," T-Bone murmured. "Some sort of sensor screen and cloak?" He asked, wondering how he hadn't noticed the partially built tower before. Right now, it looked like a spire of metal and crystal, with a top that bloomed out almost like a flower, with sprawling 'petals' that were spread out around a central stem.

Even T-Bone could recognize a solar collector; probably the primary energy source for the complex, at the moment, to judge by the size of it.

"Can't have them being found too soon," Stormshock said sensibly.

"No, I have no real clue how it works," Razor added as they made the approach, taking time to get a good look. "It's _way_ beyond me for a few years yet."

"Just depressingly empty of fliers," Stormshock sort of grumbled.

"They're planning to move everybody else down after they've finished building it?" T-Bone guessed. "You'd think they'd want everybody they can get down to help out with it."

"No and yes," she muttered. "They don't want to loose their advantage in the air by having their entire air force broody like the Con's will be soon. So everything with wings is staying on the Ark until further notice. I'm the only flier staying on planet."

"Ouch," he winced. "So they're only coming down when needed?" He guessed.

"Yap," she responded. "Do you want the tour from the cockpit or my shoulders?"

"If it's big enough we can't walk, probably your shoulders," T-Bone said. "Less chance of your wings clipping somebody moving through or having a stall out."

Stormshock snickered. "_I'm_ walking. If you're inside, the seats and some controls rotate when I transform so you're still comfortable."

"You ever stay in her cockpit like that?" T-Bone asked Razor.

"Not yet," Razor admitted. "I trust their engineering though. We might as well get used to it. It'll happen in battle eventually."

"That's what I was thinking," T-Bone agreed. "We'll stick with your cockpit then, I guess."

"Then I need you to turn over control to me, and be ready for a weird landing," she said politely. She didn't _have_ to ask and they all knew it, but it wasn't an emergency and she liked to be agreeable to her crew, her creators.

"Right, bracing for it," T-Bone nodded, releasing the controls and closing his eyes, not sure exactly what was going to happen but pretty sure that it would involve a fair amount of rapid changes in direction his eyes weren't quite ready for.

His sense of balance remained steady, thankfully. The chair's rotation moved smoothly as she transformed, but the _sound_. He'd long gotten used to the roar of engines, the small clicks and whirls of weapons being deployed, but this ... this was all around him and it sounded more like a crash than an intentional event.

"Okay, that's going to take a while to get used to," he said, rubbing his ears after the cacophony had stopped.

"Definitely need to work on adding more soundproofing the cockpit," Razor added in agreement as they looked around from the new perspective. Razor was now above T-Bone, both of them sitting looking out of what had been above them and a solid twenty-five feet above the ground.

"Reminds me of a glass elevator," T-Bone observed before he spotted Wheeljack and Prowl approaching.

"Welcome to Spire One," Wheeljack said. "The rest of the city'll come after we've finished here."

"It's _impressive_," Razor grinned at the pair that were about optic to eye level with him thanks to Stormshock's greater height. "How many do you expect to live here when it's complete?"

"Mechs, or kats?" Prowl asked them. "The tower itself should be able to house everybody onboard the Ark, at least temporarily. Once we get New Iacon built, there'll be more space, as well as room for kats who want to work along with Autobot defense forces. Likely a mix from various nations; we hope to forge mutual alliances in order to prevent any one nation from appearing to be working with us to the detriment of others."

"Smart," T-bone nodded his agreement with the plan. "Are you expecting reinforcements anytime soon?"

"It will take time for reinforcements from Cybertron to arrive, so 'soon' is probably the wrong term for it, in your scale of time," Prowl explained.

"So we probably won't meet them then," Razor nodded. "Do we have quarters here with Stormshock, or are hers with the mechs courting her?"

"With me," she answered for Prowl. "We're not _that_ close to a trine yet."

"Plus, Cloudraker and Brainstorm are among the last mechs we expect to move down here from the Ark," Wheeljack added. "They're both full Seekers, and we don't really want Brainstorm going generative right now, if we can avoid it. He's too valuable in a fight."

"Speaking of ... is Skyfire carrying?" Stormshock asked, her wings flicking with real interest.

"Yes, though we don't know how many yet," Wheeljack smiled softly, though his blast mask concealed it. "It will be almost a local year before we find out for sure."

"Eighteen years before Skyfire learns there names, and about eighty before they're born," Stormshock added. "Makes kat pregnancies seem mild."

"Crud, it makes _elephant_ pregnancies seem mild," T-Bone shuddered.

"Kats and elephants don't live nearly as long as we do," Wheeljack pointed out with a chuckle. "Let's go ahead and start the tour; why don't we start with the command center, and move to the more interesting areas after that?" He suggested.

"Sure thing," Stormshock trilled, content to follow the pair around and be _seen_ in the presence of the SIC and the high-ranking scientist. "Will I have shifts there?"

"You will," Prowl told her. "Mostly on guard or sensor duty," he added, "though you might take the comm sometimes when Blaster's not on duty. Most mechs take a shift or two in the command center, but if you find you enjoy the work we can work you in more often."

"We aren't counting on you enjoying it _that_ much," Wheeljack added with a low chuckle. "It's typically pretty boring work, punctuated by a _lot_ of excitement."

"In other words, what we've all gotten pretty used to," T-Bone pointed out.

"The excitement is during a battle, I bet," her wings twitched in displeasure at the thought of being inside when her _job_ was outside.

"No, usually when one is coming up," Prowl said. "Most of us get involved when there's a battle. We can't really afford to leave more than a skeleton crew behind, especially not out of the mechs we have who are sparked soldiers like you. If you were on shift when a fight started, you'd be relieved at the first opportunity to get involved, unless something else was keeping you out of combat."

The twitch of relieved wings told the mechs everything, and both were now reasonably sure that the way her tail and ears moved were also indicative of relief.

"So what would we be doing when she's on a CC shift?" Jake asked, taking in everything as they walked through the half-completed facility. Primarily taking note of the toe kick like space at the bottom of the wall that was large enough for a car, as was the walkway secured at Prowl's helm height.

"You'll probably be working in the lab, and Chance will probably be helping with training personnel," Prowl explained. "Wheeljack already has a few modifications he'd like to make to the basic Talon frame, and Enforcer personnel who've been brought up on the basic model will need some help adjusting, to say nothing of foreign pilots who are getting used to them. Since Chance is the best organic pilot we've got to work with right now, he's also our best choice for an initial instructor, though we hope to get several others transferred here as well."

"I'm the best pilot you'll _ever_ have to work with," T-bone said firmly, then grinned. "I'd love to teach the new kits the ropes."

"I'm mostly looking to shift from the jet engines they've got now to something a bit closer to Cybertronian standard," Wheeljack explained. "There'll be differences, but not as extreme as shifting from flying a jet with no AI at all to flying Stormshock would be."

"Trust me, the shock of having her talk back when she was _just_ a basic AI was quite enough," T-bond grumbled. "But new engines would do wonders for the Talon. So would better weapons. Better flight suits to take the G's are going to be important to. How often to the Cons target pilots?"

"At this point, almost never," Prowl told him. "That may change, but in our experience their only real concern regarding pilots who've ejected is to take out a distraction so they can focus on actual threats."

"Never came across our ejection seats," T-Bone observed.

"No, they haven't," Prowl acknowledged. "Though I'd recommend saving that sort of weaponry for when you _know_ that you can score a major tactical advantage by using it, such as to take out a strategic target. Otherwise, they're going to start expecting it."

"Which is a Bad Thing," Stormshock's engines rumbled, her battle computer presenting entirely too many deaths if the Decepticons decided pilots were dangerous enough to target. She fell silent as she was lead into the command center of the building city and took in the holoscreens and data flying on ultra-short range comms for those making choices to tap into. "Wow."

"It's still pretty slow, since we're still at the building phase," Prowl explained. "Once we're at full operation, this will be the nerve center of the entire city."

"So everything from sewage to anti-spacecraft weapons are here?" Razor asked, more than a little impressed. "Will the kat sector have a control sub-station, at least for non-military needs?"

"It will," Prowl confirmed. "There will also be redundant stations in case anything happens to the primary tower, though it will be very well defended. We've already got teams working on some of the defensive emplacements, and the framework to shift the city into battle-mode."

"Shift the _city_?" T-Bone asked, not sure he'd heard right.

"Actually, most Cybertronian cities are fully sparked," Wheeljack explained. "They just don't usually have a mobile alt form. The default is a standard city mode, and a more heavily defended battle-mode with multiple layers of shielding for the entire city and defensive placements."

"So this one will probably have a spark in the next couple decades," Razor nodded, still taking in the idea of a transforming _city_.

"Is the Ark sparked?" Stormshock asked suddenly.

"Yes and no," Wheeljack explained. "The Ark itself isn't sparked, but Teletraan-1 makes the line very slim. Jake's already met him," he added.

"Yeah, he's _amazing_ to chat with," Razor purred at the memories of the evenings the Cybertronian supercomputer had spared a few joors from a minor processor to spend with him. "I seriously doubt anyone who can't detect a spark signature could tell he wasn't as alive as any mech."

"Will Teletraan-1 stay with the Ark or be transferred to New Iacon?" Stormshock asked as they left, giving a nod to the officer of the watch.

"Definitely transferred to New Iacon," Prowl said confidently. "We'd be insane not to take advantage of his abilities, and I suspect that he'll take a spark shortly afterwards. Whether or not he bonds to the city remains to be seen."

"Not likely, but we're working on a transferable spark chamber just in case," Wheeljack explained. "We _really_ don't want Teletraan getting irritable about being bound to a single system if we can avoid it."

"Kind of like pissing off Dispatch?" T-Bone guessed.

"Very much like it, assuming that Dispatch also handled waste disposal, life support, and whether or not you were drifting in space for eternity," Wheeljack agreed.

"Ouch," Stormshock winced at the idea. "Do not piss off the one running everything."

"Definitely. He seems pretty mellow overall, though," Razor added.

"He is," Prowl agreed. "Enjoys his work, and very dedicated. Some days I almost envy him, honestly. Once we get him put in here, the datastreams at each station will be much easier to read, despite the higher activity," he offered. "Data filtering is always a touchy subject, depending on who's doing what. Blaster and I can handle feeds like this, but when you're on duty it would be much more like this," he said, tapping into the feeds and filtering down to a single station's information for Stormshock that he sent in a databurst.

"Much easier," she nodded agreement as they walked. "Even if I only understood half of it. I'm going to need to get a _lot_ better at reading Cybertronian."

"Is the translation speed the issue, or are words missing from your lexicon?" Wheeljack asked her seriously. "If there are, and it's from anybody's stream but Jazz's, we need to check your files."

"Translation speed," she assured him. "It's just a matter of practice. I _know_ it, I'm just not fluent at those speeds yet. Written Cybertronian is a lot more complex than spoken Cybertronian, at least to me," she added more for her crew than the two mechs walking slightly in front of her. "Every meaning, tense change, even who it's referring to changes the glyph. Accurate as hell, but hard to get used to."

"Much like your world's Xenqui language," Prowl agreed. "There are ways around it, but it will be good practice for you."

"Only it's _way_ worse than Xenqui," Stormshock grimaced. "Cybertronian doesn't have any pronouns and you wouldn't _believe_ the amount of information they pack into a noun."

"It's not just a name?" Razor asked curiously.

"Not even close," she shook her head, even though they couldn't see it. "Their designations include things like frame type, age, origin, allegiance, rank, spark frequency, special abilities, all the functions they've had ... it's a full biography and enough physical stuff to ID who the mech is being referenced even if you'd never met them before. There can be three mechs called Prowl, that all look the same, but their glyphs are completely different."

"Wow," Razor murmured.

"It's even applied to chairs and buildings," she added. "Everything is identified to a level that anyone with comparable senses can pick it out from everything like it."

"Cybertronian is very exacting," Prowl agreed.

"I just wanted to make sure you hadn't gotten a partial lexicon," Wheeljack reassured her. "It happens once in a while; somebody putting the dataload together grabs a dialect, rather than the full baseline Cybertronian package, and then you end up with another mech only Jazz can understand," he chuckled.

"So Jazz actually speaks a different language?" T-Bone asked.

"If it were that simple, we'd all know what he was saying," Prowl said with a good-natured chuckle of his own. "High Cybertronian, heavily flavored with the Praxian, Tarnian and Protihexian dialects, low-class Kaonian and Polyhexian slang, a smattering of Vosian from Primus knows when, Intel's own colorful variation on each and words picked up from every world and culture he'd encountered."

"In other words, yes, he speaks a different language. He speaks Jazz, and that's about all there is to it. Only Prowl and Blaster are proficient in it," Wheeljack grinned behind his blast mask. "Here's one of the defensive batteries," he moved onto the room they were walking into. Open to the sky, at least to an extent, to give the three Transformer-sized four-barrel anti-assault batteries space to rotate.

"Anti-aircraft, or anti-mech?" Chance asked curiously.

"These are rated for anti-aircraft," Prowl explained. "The shells have a high enough yield to put a serious dent in a ship the size of the Ark or Nemesis, and a clean hit would wipe out the average mech. We've seen Devastator take indirect hits without flinching, but I'm confident that a direct hit would do _serious_ damage, if not destroy components of the gestalt."

Stormshock and Razor gave matching whistles, though to the mechs hers was far more informative; impressed, don't want to get hit, curious.

"How long can you fire these without running into ammo issues?" Razor asked for her.

"We're capable of roughly six hours of sustained fire," Prowl offered. "This is the primary defensive battery; most of the battery positions will be equipped with more anti-mech weaponry."

"We haven't run into ammo issues yet; usually the Con's disembark and move in before it becomes an issue," Wheeljack explained. "But with the Omega problems, and the chance that the Nemesis would come into range before it realized we were here, it was worth installing them."

Both mechs watched in silence as Razor became _very_ focused, pulling up schematics and data on both helmet and HUD while Stormshock did her best not to twitch too much at being used as a data conduit while _standing_.

"Razor!" T-Bone groaned. "You can play _after_ the tour! Or at least after Stormshock has a chance to sit down and get ready for it!"

"Mmrrrph?" the lean tom glanced down, towards his partner, then at the two mechs watching him with knowing looks. Wheeljack looked downright amused, Prowl understanding and tolerant. "Yeah, sorry," Razor mumbled as he did a quick save and let his grip go on Stormshock's primary computers.

"Classic inventor," Wheeljack chuckled. "Don't worry, we all do it."

"Wheeljack, Skyfire, Perceptor, Brainstorm ... Jazz and I are know to as well, though for different subjects," Prowl added. "It is a common trait for several types of mechs."

"It's common for Razor too, just not something to do while Stormshock's still working on the walking thing," T-Bone said, reaching up to scritch Razor's lower leg lightly through his flight suit.

"Yeah, your zone-out tends to be more obvious," Razor teased him even as he brushed his tail tip against T-bone's hand. "Yelling at a video game."

"Like you don't yell at your computer when physics isn't playing along with you?" T-Bone teased him right back.

"I don't yell at the computer," Razor smirked down at T-bone. "I yell at the universe. It usually cooperates after that."

::Is he joking?:: Prowl privately commed Wheeljack as they led Stormshock towards the rec room.

::They're joking around, but he's not really joking. From his perspective, it's accurate. We just know about the level of physics that he uses instinctively. Subspacing, high-efficiency energy conversion, things like that. It's one of the reasons I've been working so closely with him.::

::Understood,:: Prowl relaxed, not that it could be seen. "The officer's rec room is the most active on base, though it will settle down when the enlisted and civilian rec rooms are finished. It will always be unusual to have no one present."

"Much like Medbay, though for different reasons," Wheeljack added cheerily.

"With a bit of overlap involved," Stormshock snickered. "At least from what I've seen."

"Much to Ratchet's irritation," Prowl agreed as the double doors slid open to reveal the noise, chaos and atmosphere that both kats recognized fondly.

"Break room," Razor laughed. "Oh kats, this is going to be wild in a hurry."

"And yes, there will be a kat-sized one built before the facility's opened up for everybody," Wheeljack chuckled, anticipating T-Bone's question.

"A lot more elaborate than the Enforcer break rooms," the tabby observed.

"Well, you didn't live in Enforcer headquarters," Prowl pointed out. "It's more necessary when you don't really get away for long."

**"Hay flashy!"** a voice called out, drawing their attention to the silver Bladebrother sprawled out on the couch with two of his cadre. **"You finally moving in?"**

**"Great, a broody proto-Seeker. Just what we need,"** Sunstreaker grumbled from his right without looking up.

**"I'm not broody,"** she trilled back and flicked her wings playfully but without promise to Sideswipe.

It was still enough to perk his interest and he rolled over the back of the couch with unnatural grace to land on his wheeled pedes.

"Are they saying anything that might be trouble?" T-Bone asked Stormshock quietly.

"Nah," she giggled over the helmet comm. "Sideswipe, the silver one, is flirting as usual. The gold one, Sunstreaker, is just grumbling as usual."

"Just don't let it go beyond flirting with us in here, okay?" T-Bone requested as the silver frontliner skated over with a grin on his faceplates.

"I'll be good," she promised, noting the scowl Prowl was aiming at Sideswipe and the knowing snicker of Wheeljack behind her. She didn't have more time than that before the notably shorter mech grabbed her hand and pulled her into a cleared space. He pinged her with a frequency that opened to a hard beat of dance music.

"I think they're enjoying themselves," T-Bone observed, glad that the seats buffered he and Razor from the movement as Stormshock started dancing along. "You okay up there?"

"Yes," he responded, grateful for the motion dampening effects and Stormshock's care.

A sudden screech at eardrum shattering decibels and pitch and the silver mech leapt back, his long, strait blades snapping out from his forearms.

"My crew!" Stormshock was several steps back even as Prowl rushed forward and Sunstreaker burst into laughter.

"What the fuck just happened?" T-Bone asked, bracing himself, not at all sure what was going on.

"He saw you and freaked out that I had organics moving inside me in mech mode," Stormshock explained over the helmet comms while Prowl glared Sideswipe down over Sunstreaker's roaring laughter and the snickers of several other mechs.

"That going to be a common problem?" T-Bone asked her. "I'd hate to think what he'd have done if Prowl hadn't been there."

"Worst case, I transform and nothing'll catch us," she pointed out as Prowl turned to her and motioned her to follow him out of the room.

"Yeah, but was it just a surprise, or were we breaking some sort of usual rule being there?" T-Bone pressed as they moved through the plain metallic hallways. "Don't want to get you in trouble, either."

"Surprise," Prowl assured them. "It is _most_ unusual. I'm sure before local dawn every Autobot in the solar system will be well aware that you might travel in the cockpit instead of on her shoulders or hands."

"Okay, thanks," T-Bone nodded, relaxing a bit.

"It doesn't help that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are both pretty short-tempered," Wheeljack pointed out. "They've got hair triggers. They know not to get too rough though, whatever Ratchet says about them. You should've seen the first sparring match they got into with Stormshock," he added with a grin behind his blast mask.

"It was a _blast_," she trilled playfully. "They're good mechs, just young like me, and battle-sparked."

"It also ended with them ending up where we're going to be visiting next," Prowl pointed out. "Medbay. Though she did put in a very good showing. Her experience dealing with local organic threats served her well in the simulation."

"It also has apparently dulled my self-preservation instincts," she snickered. "Kinda hard to worry about getting torn apart when it's happened."

"That was before we knew it was pure dumb luck that your spark was sustained until I rebuilt your frame," Razor pointed out.

"We've pointed that out. We figure that if she has to deal with Ratchet fixing her instead of you guys a time or two, she'll develop them again," Wheeljack chuckled.

"He's really that disturbing?" Razor chuckled.

"Not yet, but even Sunstreaker gives him a wide berth," Stormshock shrugged.

"I don't know that I'd say 'disturbing,' but after you've been in with real battle damage a few times you'll learn," Wheeljack explained. "He's damned good, but he's a firm believer in the best medicine being not getting hurt in the first place. A few snarls and extra dents before he fixes you up can save him orn of work later if it convinces you not to do something 'stupidly heroic' in the first place."

Both kats burst out laughing, and Stormshock snickered along with them.

"Oh kats, if he can manage that with these two..." Razor couldn't even get the rest out he was laughing so hard.

"If he does, it'll be a first," Prowl deadpanned. "Autobots who are prone to that sort of behavior are almost impossible to break of it, no matter how much Ratchet tries. The closest he usually comes in convincing them to get better at getting away with it."

"Good luck to him them. 'Stupidly heroic' is pretty much the definition of a SWAT Kat ... and any good Enforcer for that matter," T-bone continued to chuckle as they worked their way through the half constructed base. "It's how the city's still standing."

"It's a good portion of how the Autobots have been successful too," Prowl admitted. "And to be fair, Ratchet understands it. Just try to avoid getting damaged while you're not actually in combat and you should be okay."

"You'll probably have more trouble with some of the special-ops people you get in here with _that_," T-Bone grinned. "Especially when they get their own MMA ring going."

Prowl audibly groaned, his elegant sensor wings twitching from the memories. "We are both entirely too familiar with their nature. Fortunately Ratchet will not be the primary doctor for kats when it can be avoided. He really does have too much work keeping the mechs functioning."

"So who's the poor sap who got stuck with head medical for kats?" T-Bone asked.

"We haven't found anybody quite that crazy yet," Wheeljack chuckled. "More seriously, we'll probably be picking from several candidates when the time comes. We've got some good options, we just need somebody with the right qualifications. They'll have a state of the art facility to work with, even by Cybertronian standards. Several medical professionals of various types have been recruited, though they won't move in until the organic sector is complete enough for warriors to move in."

"What are your criteria for scientists and researchers to gain a place here?" Razor asked, his mind going over all his contacts, both for those to recommend and those to recommend avoiding.

"We're looking for trustworthy scientists in the tops of their fields," Wheeljack explained. "More for the creative sorts, like you, than the ones who are just best at spitting back accepted data. They're going to need to be able to work well ahead of the curve to keep up, after all."

The door to medbay slid open, and Wheeljack froze with one pede almost inside.

"He's grinning," Stormshock observed uneasily.

"What _perfect_ timing," Ratchet's dangerous looking grin took on an almost manic edge as Wheeljack backpedaled to stand behind Prowl. "_You_," he jabbed a finger at Stormshock. "Bring your crew in. I just finished setting up the emergency organic clinic and they're just in time to test it."

"Why do I get the feeling that this isn't going to be a fun couple of hours?" T-Bone winced as Stormshock's cockpit slid open.

"Because he's grinning," Wheeljack said from behind them.


	23. Battle of Wills

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: None  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover,  
><strong>Summary<strong>: DK encounters the Cons, makes arrangements with Starscream  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><strong><p>Allsparked Aristal 23: Battle of Wills<p>**

* * *

><p>~How long do you think he'll be working on shoring that thing up?~ Thundercracker asked Starscream as the two of them lounged, soaking up sunlight outside of the caves that Skywarp had picked out for his nest.<p>

The lighter Seeker chuckled. ~Probably right up until it's time for the birth. Just enjoy the peace. He'll start barking orders for supplies soon enough.~

~And us without an energon distillery,~ Thundercracker grumbled. ~Hopefully he'll realize that _he's_ the one who'll have to build one if he wants high grade!~

~I can year you,~ Skywarp broke in, giving both his trimemates an instant processor ache at the unshielded blast of information from one of the most advanced multi-threaded processors in existence.

~Please, Warp,~ Starscream groaned. ~Watch the processor dump when you talk.~

~I've been telling you two to upgrade for _ages_ so you can deal with that,~ Skywarp snorted playfully.

~And have Hook and Soundwave messing around in my processor banks? No thank you!~ Thundercracker snorted, venting hot air against the desert floor. ~Just watch how hard you think at us, it's safer for you than for us!~

~You can always go on a supply run instead of grumbling about what you know how to fix,~ Skywarp teased playfully, including a list of materials he wanted for the nest. ~Do we know when Nemesis will arrive?~

~About twenty decaorn,~ Starscream told him. ~We'll have to hold out until -~ He cut off as his sensors picked up a disturbance. ~Are you picking that up?~ He asked his trinemates, switching his attention to identifying the source of the vibrations he was picking up.

~Yes,~ Thundercracker rumbled and sent a sub-sonic boom into the ground to find, track and identify the intruder. ~Local machine. Driller.~

~Kill it!~ Skywarp actually screeched, his protective protocols towards his nest and growing creations at full strength.

~Get airborne,~ Thundercracker told him. ~If we lose the nest, we can find a new one at this point, want you out of harm's way!~

Despite the possessive drive to protect his nest, Skywarp complied with his Action, his chief protector, and jumped well away from the contested space as the ground started to rumble more noticeably with the machine approaching the surface. When it broke the surface, it was angled _away_ from them and the nest and in clear sight of the two puffed up and battle-primed Seekers.

Starscream took one look and promptly opened fire at full power. An energy field shimmered along the driller's surface, some sort of force field from the look of it. A voice echoed from the machine, as a panel opened in the side of it.

"No harm is intended. We wish to bargain with you." A sextet of small, winged creatures hesitantly came out, each pair carrying a different metal crate. The door panel closed, before a visible opening appeared in the force field, exposing the small creatures and their cargo.

The creatures made an uneasy exit, then set the crates down and opened then, one by one, under the scrutiny of all three Seekers. Each one contained a different type of item. Crystals, highly valuable ones by local standards.

~Some have use, but not much,~ Skywarp commented.

~Local wealth,~ Starscream pointed out.

Radioactive fuel rods.

~Skywarp'll finish those like rust sticks,~ Thundercracker commented silently as they watched, wings twitching.

~Yumm,~ the black and purple Seeker hummed with desire for the treat none of them had had in too long. ~I _am_ fueling for four.~

~Yes, we know,~ Starscream huffed.

The third crate contained assorted armor parts.

~Grab me one,~ Skywarp demanded, pulsing a willingness to swoop down himself.

~All right, all right,~ Thundercracker groused, though he was curious about why the armor would be offered as well. He transformed, approaching the crate as the little pink things scrambled back towards the field to try and stay away from him. Picking up one of the pieces, he looked over the thick armor plates, running a full sensor scan for any sign of a trap, feeding the data to Skywarp.

~Heavy stuff,~ he observed. ~I'd say it's up there with Devastator's. Want me to bring it up to you, or you have what you need for now?~

~That's enough for now,~ he decided.

"All right," Starscream fixed the driller with sharp red optics. "What do you want?"

"I saw your little performance over the city. With proper resources, I believe you could bring both the Enforcers and the SWAT Kats to their knees. Of course, you would need somebody who can help you with your own opponents, from what I saw. I do not believe that the SWAT Kats have magically devised an additional five jets, fully automated and capable of combat flight."

"If you can't bring down the SWAT Kats, just what makes you think you'll be of any use against the Aerialbots?" Thundercracker growled, his engines revving into the low rumble that sent the six creeplings into absolute hysterics of panic.

"Are they the same planes that combined into that rather formidable looking robot shortly after you crashed the Turbokat?"

"Yes," Starscream crossed his arms over his chest.

"I believe that this will be sufficient to deal with them," the voice inside the driller observed, producing a holographic display of a massive ship, easily the size of the Nemesis and more heavily armed.

"The SWAT Kats are a thorn in my side because their armorer has a creative genius that rivals my own. From what little I have observed, your kind are far more straight-forward. In addition, I have certain alternatives that are unique to my own abilities." The door panel of the vehicle opened, and a large mech stepped out, looking like one of the local Xanith clad in some sort of heavy, hooded robe. The force field opened, and it stepped out, exposing itself as the creeplings hurried back under cover.

~Whatever that thing is, it's ... it's not sparked, but it's got a spark _in_ it, a weak one ... what _is_ it?~ Skywarp demanded, his processors starting to work hard and fast as he tried to process what his sensors were telling him.

**"Abomination,"** Thundercracker growled, his engines namesake roaring to full power as he lunged forward, intent on smashing this thing that shouldn't be and freeing the spark.

The heavy machine didn't seem to be affected at all by Thundercracker's engines. It stepped back, absorbing part of the mech's blow, and responding with a powerful punch to the Seeker's torso that knocked Thundercracker back and instantly changed the tactics.

The trine bond snapped open in battle mode.

Skywarp focused as much of his multi-threaded processors as he dared on guiding his more battle-inclined mates. Unlike when he was in a secure command center or in his lab, out here and carrying newly kindled Seekerlings he didn't dare shut up his warping ability to free up the 70% of his processor power that the ability demanded to calculate paths, safe destinations and how to get there. He could only reduce it to the emergency only setting so he had a full 50% of his processor to work with.

Thundercracker flared his wings, his optics glowing brightly in fury even as he switched tactics. Powering up the photon cannon on his left arm and cycling the anti-tank incendiary ceramic rounds into his right arm cannon, he opened fire, trusting Skywarp to feed him data on which was more effective.

Starscream was doing much the same, only with a thermal cannon set to rotate between freeze and melt functions on his left and his infamous nullifier on his right.

The nullifier didn't seem to bother it in the least, but there was barely a second to realize that before the rest of their fire ripped into the heavy metallic frame, tearing it apart. Starscream's thermal cannon hardened the metal, before Thundercracker's fire shattered outer layers, the stress cracks only being exacerbated by the heat that followed. After moments, there was nothing left but large metal chunks.

What was most unnerving was that, looking at the fragments, it didn't have _nearly_ enough moving parts to operate the way it did.

"My apologies," the voice from before announced. "I had not expected that my golem would disturb you so badly. This was a possibility I had not anticipated, though I did instruct it not to cause any serious damage if attacked."

"How the _PIT_ did you make that?" Skywarp demanded as he snapped into existence next to his trine only to vanish just after speaking.

"More to the point, what was it?" Thundercracker forcibly settled his wings, far too practiced at ignoring minor damage to be bothered by it now. Skywarp's curiosity about the 'golem' driving him to examine what he'd just destroyed.

"A simple application of Katsylyan effigy magic combined with a basic heavy-duty automaton," the voice explained, as though that said it all. "I hate letting useful resources go to waste, and that includes servants who have outlived their usefulness. Binding their spirits to a golem is one way that I can extend their practicality; a way that, evidently, is not affected by all of your weaponry the way it should be."

"So it was being sustained by the soul of a kat?" Starscream relayed Skywarp's question.

"Among other things, yes," the voice said without any trace of hesitation. "From intercepted communication frequencies, I believe that something referred to as 'allspark' energy is involved in the process, due to the binding. I haven't yet had the opportunity to test the process on a larger machine, but in theory it would be possible as well."

~That's ... it's proof that organics have a spark,~ Thundercracker stammered. ~It's not possible. Is it?~

~Theoretically it is,~ Skywarp told the truth rather than comfort him. ~May be unique to this world though.~

"Okay, so back to the important subject,~ Starscream derailed the scientific inquiry. "Except for being immune to my current null rays, it's no tougher than a mech its size. Even if you can mass produce the things, I don't see how they'll be any more useful than combat drones against the Autobots."

"The golems are hardly my most effective weapons, either," Dark Kat countered. "Observe." A holographic schematic of a ship easily the size of the Nemesis, and more heavily armed and armored, was projected. "Merely one of my latest projects. The main cannon is easily capable of dealing with the robot that sent the three of you running. The difficulty is in dealing with smaller, more agile targets, something that the three of you clearly have experience with. In exchange, you would have the resources that you require, in quantities greater than what you could gather yourselves. And secure locations to operate out of," he added.

Starscream considered it while Skywarp fed him additional analysis. For the Seekers it was a lengthy pause, but in reality it was barely a full second.

"All right, so if we agree to this, what will be our share of the world when you conquer it?" He asked, sounding much more agreeable to it than he really was.

~He's just another petty dictator,~ Thundercracker grumbled.

~Yes, but one that could prove a valuable bargaining chip with the Autobots when we need it,~ Starscream countered. ~He may be useful until the Nemesis arrives and we have more wings for support.~

"It will be a fair split, of course," Dark Kat promised, unaware of their silent conversation. "And, of course, my assistance in ridding you of your own difficulties."

Starscream hummed, appearing thoughtful. "What territories are you planning to claim?"

"It will be easier to show you," he told the mechs, projecting a globe with a large segment colored a deep purple, and another bright red.

"Of course, Megakat City would be divided, for the purposes of establishing a mutual stronghold and capitol, a deterrent to any petty jealousies that might arise on either side. It's open to modification, but I believe I have selected regions richer in the resources that your kind are likely to value for you. Minerals and natural energy sources, primarily."

Starscream fed the data to Skywarp, knowing that his Vision was already comparing the hologram to what their own scans had told them about the planet.

It was time to see just how much this organic was willing to give up in exchange for their help.

* * *

><p>Hard Drive relaxed as the electrons that made up his body coursed through the underground cabling that made up Megakat City's high-power electricity grid. It was so much better than dealing with New Iacon's distribution system. The Autobots realized the danger that he could pose, and had security systems set up around everything really interesting. He was on their side, but everybody knew that it was a tenuous arrangement at best.<p>

Of course, that also made it the sort of professional arrangement that he was used to. He had unique skills. His employers had resources he wanted control of; money, information, the ability to inflict unbelievable pain. So long as those things remained true, they were useful to each other.

But there was always an implicit threat there. Governments, corporations, and omegas didn't trust him. It was no secret that he had no loyalty to an employer once he was a free agent anymore. The main reason he wasn't dead, and he knew it, was because his employers always knew that they might need him again. Even without his surge suit, he was one of the best hackers in the business, and those sort of skills were difficult to replace when it was known that the last guy to hold the position had gotten a bullet to the head as his severance package.

Unfortunately, he knew that his skills _weren't_ unique to the Autobots. Not for long. He was now certain that he'd live to see the day when the surge suit had been duplicated and mass produced. When that happened, his life was worthless. Worse, he was a liability; the defenses that Wheeljack and other Intel mechs had were easily enough to stop him. Mechs without that training and those defense protocols would be tricky, but he was sure that he could wreak real havoc with them if he put his mind to it. The fact that Wheeljack or Jazz could scattered his component atoms across cyberspace meant that he would studiously _not_ put his mind to it, but that only meant that he needed the Autobots.

If he wanted to live after they could replace him, even improve on him, he had to make sure that they didn't think the implicit threat of his existence was outweighed by _something_. He hated to count on affection or loyalty. He was reasonably confident that he could last for a while on the basis of Prime's dislike of killing, but there was no way that he could count on that to do the job for the seventy or eighty years he hoped to live once he retired.

Unless, of course, he bolstered it with gratitude. Even the most heartless military bastards that he'd dealt with in the past were at least reluctant to kill somebody who'd been useful in the past. If he had a couple of major accomplishments under his belt in Autobot service, he was reasonably sure that he could keep his head attached to his body as long as he didn't go sticking it where it didn't belong.

His assignment was to keep an eye out for any unusual network activity that indicated Omega or Decepticon activity. That, he wasn't picking up on, at least not around Megakat City. There were reports of foreign construction projects being raided, but nothing too unusual; he'd reported them, but it wasn't a pattern that indicated a Dreadnought or superweapon was being built. Nothing more than an overly ambitious scrap metal thief might make off with.

What _was_ interesting, and technically outside of his orders for the day, was the power drain he was detecting out of sector A-6. He knew the power cables of Megakat City like the back of his hand. The veins and arteries of civilization had been his own life blood for years. And he knew that the power cables leading out into the Badlands weren't leading to Megakat Maximum, or one of the other small handful of civilized outposts that were supposed to be there.

No, those cables led to various outposts of Dark Kat's. Hard Drive had known about them for years, of course, but he never touched them except in an extreme emergency, and then only long enough to get out of the city before grounding himself out and materializing. Dark Kat's computers were one of a handful of sacred systems to Hard Drive; a short list of networks that he had promised himself he would never infiltrate, especially not with the surge suit. Until a few months ago, it had been on the top of that list; Teletraan-1 had replaced it in that regard as soon as he knew what Cybertronians were really capable of.

But now, the Autobots were concerned about Dark Kat's lack of activity. They didn't know how to find the Omega's lairs, and they didn't know what he was working on. Even with their unofficial access to Megakat City's power usage information, they couldn't detect the ways that Dark Kat was hiding his drain on city systems.

Being physically part of those systems, Hard Drive could. And he knew that he could follow that drain into Dark Kat's computer. The trick after that would be to snag enough data to determine what he was up to, and which of his bases were currently active, and then to get the Hell out of there before Dark Kat knew anything more than that he'd been hacked.

It really was a tribute to how sincerely afraid of Wheeljack and Jazz Hard Drive was that he was actually acting on those thoughts. Or, perhaps, tribute to what he suspect they'd do with that information. Probably a bit of both. But either way, when the kat detected the drain, he let himself follow it, joining the billions of electrons currently streaming through copper cable to power the computers that were busily calculating the most effective way to annihilate the city that Hard Drive called home.

Now that Hard Drive had experienced _truly_ advanced systems, alien systems, he had a fresh perspective for what he was cruising around. It was an ill-kept secret that Dark Kat's technology wasn't pure tech, or at least not local tech. Being what he was, Hard Drive had always been more aware of it than most. Now that he understood what _alien_ was, he knew something else.

He knew that Dark Kat wasn't using alien tech. He was blending magic and technology into something _wrong_.

A quick dip into the sensors and he also knew that Dark Kat wasn't home at the moment.

Well, that was handy. What was he up to, though?

Hard Drive stretched himself out through the power systems, searching for a sign of what was going on. He found a creepling working with an arc welder, and slipped into it so he could get a closer look at the project. He passed through the arc, into the metal that was being worked on, and explored the system on offer.

A Dreadnought. The biggest one yet, if he didn't miss his guess. At least it wasn't mobilized yet; he could work with this. For a moment, he was tempted to try powering on the engines and capturing the machine, but he didn't like the odds of being shot down by friendly fire before he could explain things. Instead, he patched into its hardwired connection to Dark Kat's network, and got down to business.

Bypassing the outer layers of security were kit's play for Hard Drive; Dark Kat couldn't very well cut off all power to his network, and that gave him an automatic in. From there, it was easy to discover the current, active processes. Teams that were out currently gathering materials. Dark Kat's drill-bot was out, headed for a location in the desert... probably where Dark Kat was, gathering something underground.

Within a fraction of a second, anything in the 'harmless, unmonitored' portion of the system that was interesting had been identified and copied, borrowing a processor cycle here and there that wouldn't register as anything more than standard variances in performance. Hard Drive had to grudgingly offer Dark Kat his respect; the system he was in could run all of Megakat City, if it was dedicated to the task.

The ultimate irony was that, in many ways, it did. How much of the city's economy was dedicated to Omega defense, to battening down the hatches to minimize the loss of life? With MKC on the defensive so much, it prevented the Enforcers from really devoting their time to stopping Omegas like Dark Kat. Hard Drive had appreciated that frequently in the past; the fact that he was typically considered a minor threat, all things considered, even when compared to Doctor Viper, Turmoil, or even Chop Shop. Days like today, when he was looking at the destructive potential that _made_ him a non-essential target, it just made him sick to his stomach.

Or at least it would have, if his stomach had still been physical.

As he thought, Hard Drive circled the protected circuits and systems of the computer, the data storage units and other critical systems that were behind heavy security.

Brute force was a possibility, but it would certainly trigger alarms. He didn't know enough about Dark Kat to try impersonating legitimate access from the keyboard. And he rather doubted that Dark Kat would be amused if he posed as an email claiming that "horny shekats in your area want to chat!"

Maybe black market Viagra, but he didn't really _want_ to know what dwelled in the cesspool that was Dark Kat's spam filter.

With his main options rapidly dwindling, he decided to go for the slow but certain. He placed himself next to the circuits, piggy-backing his way one electron at a time through the firewalls and into the actual storage units. It wasn't fast; it took minutes of real time, even on a system like this, but he knew it was virtually impossible to detect.

Once he'd been carried through into the secure regions, he drew his body back together, giving himself awareness beyond his impossibly stretched cloud of electrons.

Jackpot. He was right in the middle of Dark Kat's storage systems. He started zipping around, snagging one encrypted file after another. He knew he wouldn't have long, so he didn't bother trying to decrypt them. He'd just keep them in the suit until he could ensure they weren't harmful, and then access them later. The more innocuous the surface name, the more likely he was to snag it. If he'd had lungs, he would have laughed at the irony of Aristal's most feared, most sophisticated hacker behaving like a blind thug who'd just broken into a jewelry store.

Then, he noticed it. A firewall like nothing he'd ever encountered before, practically crackling with aggressive virus hunters and guard-dog programs. He could only think of one thing that would be so heavily encrypted in Dark Kat's computer.

The identity of the tom behind the hood.

Hard Drive's gut told him that he should ignore it and get the fuck out, while the getting was good. But another part of him, one that was exulting in the fact that he was actually inside Dark Kat's computers and hadn't yet triggered a single security protocol, wanted to know what was in there. He'd gotten this far on his own knowledge and experience. As fearsome as he'd always assumed Dark Kat's computers would be, they'd fallen with relative ease to his unique skills.

And, after all, he _was_ here to prove that those skills were indispensable, wasn't he? With a little extra help from the Cybertronian tricks Wheeljack had made available to him, he could get in, grab a quick copy of whatever was closest, and then get out the same way he'd gotten in.

Why didn't he listen to this part of his brain more often?

He got himself into position, and prepared a code package that would completely scramble the security, focusing it on the logical bomb that would be begging the system to crash itself. He dropped the packet into a handy datastream, and got himself ready to pierce the firewall at the first trace of an opening.

He slipped himself through the first crack, hijacking a datastream from the security programs to the core to carry himself in. He had no idea what he was looking at, when he slipped out of the electron stream and stared at the most blindingly beautiful logic network he'd ever seen before. He didn't know where to _start_ trying to access files. Which, he realized as he detected a building power surge, was probably just as well.

He was about to get a very painful reminder in why he shouldn't listen to _that_ part of his brain more often.

He fired off a rapid stream of conflicting commands, trying to slow the system's defenses as he began to flee through the computer's wires, leaving burnt out circuits behind him.

"Oh, don't run," a coldly gleeful voice called out to him. "I haven't had a playmate in here since the last time Master tried to merge a kat into the peripheral printing system."

"Thanks, but I'm not looking forward to being hooked into your floppy drive," Hard Drive shot back, patching himself into the power supply and trying to stream out through the cord.

Only to find that it had been unhooked.

"Okay, now you're cheating," he grumbled, streaming himself directly across drive platters, leaving a fragmented mess in his wake. "So, what the Hell are you, anyway?"

"I am Abrasax," it introduced itself. "I am this system. Not unlike how Teletraan-1 is the Autobot's system."

"Oh please," Hard Drive retorted, rolling eyes that he didn't have. "Teletraan never would have let me get that far. Let me guess; you didn't even know I was here until I tripped into your processor core, did you?"

"Of course I knew you were here," Abrasax retorted coolly. "While you explored I was able to study you. I gained more than you, particularly considering you won't be leaving."

"Oh I won't?" Hard Drive challenged. "I could be out of here any time I wanted."

He couldn't, of course. He should have known that it was a mistake to try double-crossing a client like _Dark Kat_. Of all the psychotic bastards he'd worked with over the years, Dark Kat had to be the craziest of them. Unfortunately, paranoia was a part of that too. The entire computer's body was insulated where possible; he had only a handful of exit points, and he was sure that there were swarms of creeplings huddling around every power cable, waiting for him to jump out.

"But you know what? I'm feeling like a fight today. Give me your best shot," he challenged the computer, incorporating his electrical body just enough for what he was planning. He quickly found his atoms routed and directed in loops and shunted into separate, shielded drives.

"It will be my pleasure," Abrasax accepted the challenge as he began a tactical campaign of divide and store for later dissection.

Hard Drive quickly gathered most of his body back together, hoping that he wasn't missing anything especially vital when he finally managed to find his way back into a physical form. He shot off through the system, looking to regroup somewhere where he could score just a few cycles to think and plan and come up with a way out of here.

However smart it was, this was Dark Kat's computer. There had to be something in that he could use.

Hunter programs booted and began to bay at his atoms, hunting and herding him. Chasing him everywhere he went. The tactic was simple, just as it was effective.

All the while Hard Drive could hear the Ai's snickers and laughter, a sound so much like it's master.

No. He was Hard Drive, the best hacker of this generation. He was a _kat_, a real, living person. He wasn't about to let himself be beaten by a _glorified calculator_.

He condensed his electrical body, backing out of the code level and thinking of the system like a very small version of Megakat City's power grid. He'd played this game before, and he _always_ won. He started pushing himself through wires faster and faster, jamming himself through glittering pathways of copper and gold in the shortest time he could, generating a current that was well beyond the system's tolerances. The delicate pathways melted in his wake, buying him a few precious seconds as Abrasax was forced to reroute its circuitry to keep a stable pathway.

Seconds that he was going to put to good use. He opened up his senses, searching for the telltale flow of power into the system that would tell him how to find his way back to the internal power source of the computer. Once he knew where he was going, he dropped down into the code level long enough to place a few data packets before arcing out of the damaged drive and back into the processors of the machine, searing microtransistors as he passed.

He suddenly found himself shunted, _hard_, down a specific path.

A stunned fraction of a second later he realized that Abrasax was forcing him towards where he wanted to go; an exit.

Oh no. Not like this. Sure, he was headed for an exit, but he wanted it to be _his_ choice of exit. One that Abrasax picked for him would be sure to be guarded.

"What's the matter, fucker, don't like to play when you find out your mouse has claws?" He growled to himself, shunting himself into his original planned path. Fighting against the current that was streaming into the system, he pushed himself into the battery at the core of the backup power supply.

All Hell broke loose as the battery burned out. The system flickered for the barest moment, before Dark Kat's ultimate backup system kicked in.

Just what Hard Drive was counting on.

He poured himself into the cables leading to the generator at the core of the base, materializing outside of it. He fell to his knees, gasping as honest-to-god _pain_ told him that his nervous system was back and working _entirely_ too well.

Alarms blared, his head splitting with each flash of light and painful screech of klaxons. He heard clawed feet rushing towards him, and raised his hands. Lightning streamed from his fingers, arcing into the creeplings and making them shriek before their bodies were cooked.

He looked around for a moment, finding a security camera. He took just enough time to make a particularly rude gesture for the record, and jumped his body back into an electrical current, passing into the system and quickly streaming into Megakat City's achingly familiar grid. He found his way into an unguarded computer, and hijacked its SMS protocols to send a message to New Iacon with the location of one of his remaining safehouses.

He didn't know how badly Abrasax had torn him up, but he didn't want to find out without medical attention available.

It was still a shock at how fast the reply came. He just wasn't used to working with anyone that gave a damn. But within milliseconds of his message making it to New Iacon, Wheeljack pinged him back with a request to remain electrical if possible and whether he could make it to New Iacon.

And here he'd been expecting to be stuck oozing in his safehouse until somebody got an ambulance out.

He took a moment to get out of his "job gone bad" mindset, and focused on a critical assessment of what he was able to do. The data line that he'd used to get into the city was still there. The question was pursuit.

He knew that, normally, that would be reason enough to go for the safehouse, and burn it down after him after that. But, then, the Autobots might actually appreciate it if Dark Kat knew that they could get into his systems.

He sent out a reply explaining the situation. He could stay in his electrical form as long as necessary, as long as he had power to keep the suit charged. He could make it back, but he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't attract attention if he did. He'd leave it up to them; that way, if things went bad, at least he'd have been following Wheeljack's instructions.

~Come home,~ was Wheeljack's immediate and simple reply, but oh, how much those two words said. ~Route to system 9673564-098764-9455.~

He didn't bother to reply, he just routed his energy, passing through the wires and connecting to the system address.

He had to wonder if, just maybe, he'd underestimated the Autobots. Either way, he knew that he had information they'd be able to use. Even if the datafiles were meaningless, he knew one thing that he was sure they'd want to find out.

That computer had been more than just an AI. He could feel it in every fiber of his being.

When he gave a ping telling anyone in the room that he'd arrived, something that Wheeljack had told him was expected, the reply came with a mech plugging into the system he was resting in and scanning his energy.

~Oh my, you really have messed yourself up,~ the presence and voice were not one he knew, but its gentle nature could only be an Autobot. ~I'm First Aid. Since Ratchet wants me to specialize in organic repair, I'll be putting you to rights,~ he chatted away.

~Do you want me to jump out once you're ready?~ He asked, quickly picking up on the frequency to use. To be honest, he was perfectly happy just sitting here for a while. He wasn't used to resting in an actual system that used an alternating current; it was remarkably soothing, when he thought about it, like floating in a pool. Probably why they'd designed it.

~It would be best if you stay here for at least two hours,~ First Aid said smoothly as he began to rebuild the damaged parts of Hard Drives energy and code. ~Organics seem to respond better when they rest after repairs. I am pleased you find this system soothing. Your natural frequencies are quite different from ours.~

~My natural frequencies aren't like this,~ Hard Drive explained. ~Standard sixty cycles a second, unless I tweak the suit. Helps me blend in with the background power. That's how I got into the target in the first place. Let me know if I start rambling,~ he added. ~Not sure how much of this might be helpful for you to know, since this isn't something that would work with most kats.~ He subconsciously redirected the extra power he was picking up into the proper 'spots,' not even aware that he was making the minute corrections to his body when First Aid started supplying power that actually matched the energy levels the suit used.

~I don't mind you rambling,~ First Aid said cheerfully. ~I haven't become a grumpy old bot like my mentor yet. So what beat up on you?~

~Smartest damned piece of silicon I ever had the displeasure of meeting, calls himself Abrasax. I think I did enough damage that he was happy to see me go though, so that's something. He might be that other native spark you've been looking for, by the way, that central core was like nothing I've seen before. Oh, and I need to get the suit plugged into a dedicated, non-networked system once I'm out of here,~ he added. ~Preferably one you can afford to let me rebuild a dozen times or so. I went poking around Dark Kat's network, and I don't have a clue what I picked up, but I'm sure that most of it is booby-trapped. It might take a little trial-and-error to disarm everything.~

~I've alerted Wheeljack,~ First Aid responded. ~I am sure you are correct. Ops will be prepared to deal with whatever it contains. I have no doubt they are far more skilled than Dark Kat.~

~No doubt, but it never hurts to be too careful with him. I also know where his currently active base is, but he'll probably be evacuating it any time now. He wasn't in it at the time, but it won't take long to hear about what I did.~

~No doubt,~ First Aid hummed agreeably. ~Did you find anything else of interest?~

~Not that I can be sure of. I wasn't sure how alert the security was, so I didn't want to look too deeply into anything. Most interesting information was probably that he actually seemed pretty poorly equipped to stop me from getting in; getting out was the tricky part, and where I got banged up. I _thought_ I was about to find out who he was, but it turned out to be the processing core that was so heavily shielded, instead of some sort of data.~

~If Abrasax is sparked, then it would make sense that he guarded himself so well and chose self-preservation over holding you,~ First Aid hummed thoughtfully. ~It will be interesting to discover whether Dark Kat or Abrasax understands how different Abrasax actually is.~

~Probably not the full extent of it,~ Hard Drive observed, settling into the calm wash of electrons to rest.

~You're repaired, so try to rest here for at least two hours. I'll be back then,~ First Aid instructed.


	24. Broody Seekers

**Fandom**: Transformers Bayverse/SWAT Kats  
><strong>Author<strong>: Gatekat and Karl Wolfemann  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Starscream/Skywarp/Thundercracker  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Codes<strong>: Crossover, Slash, Violence, Mechpreg  
><strong>Summary<strong>:  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. SWAT Kats to Hanna-Barbara. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: klik = 1 minute, breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycle  
><strong>"text"<strong> Cybertronian  
>~text~ bondhardline talk  
>::text:: commradio chatter

* * *

><p><strong>Allsparked Aristal 24: Broody Seekers<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>"Miserable local quality,"<strong> Thundercracker grumbled as he and Starscream gathered steel while the local organics scrambled away.

**"Beats listening to Skywarp complain about it,"** Starscream pointed out. **"Now, hurry up and finish that load, I've detected the copper cable he was looking for, and I know I heard an alert go out."**

**"So? What can squishies do?"** Thundercracker snorted through his vents and revved his turbines. **"They run and hide like all squishies do."**

**"They can try to alert the Autobots as to our location,"** Starscream pointed out. **"We don't want to lose **_**another**_** nest because somebody knows where it is!"** He flew over to the shed where the cable was stored and transformed, ripping the top off of it and pulling out the load.

**"Autobots,"** Thundercracker snorted a loud vent of air as he gathered long swaths of fabric armor. **"Could use the fight as long as it's **_**here**_**."**

**"Perhaps,"** Starscream granted. **"Just not until **_**after**_** we've got everything we need. We need to finish the nest soon."**

**"Right,"** Thundercracker submitted to his leader with little resistance as he grabbed the last of the supplies on his list. **"Got everything?"**

**"Everything that's available here,"** Starscream agreed. **"Let's get back to the slavedriver and find out where he's sending us next."**

**"It'll be worth it, when they hatch,"** Thundercracker lost all his surly manner as his processors turned to the reason they were doing this. **"How long has it been since the last hatchling?"**

**"Vos,"** Starscream's voice warbled with grief at the loss of their home. **"Three metacycles before we lost Vos."**

**"Too long,"** Thundercracker agreed. **"How are we going to protect them from Megatron **_**and**_** the Autobots? We can hide Skywarp while he's nesting and the Seekerlings while they're nest bound, but what then?"**

**"It will be over by then,"** Starscream said with firm certainty. **"Megatron will not rule Cybertron; that will be **_**my**_** place."**

Normally Thundercracker wasn't bothered, but right now, with so much at stake, he couldn't quite keep his uneasiness from showing. From being voiced. **"**_**How**_** will we end Megatron?"**

**"I have plans, Thundercracker, and it's - never mind,"** Starscream suddenly shifted, his sensors going to high alert. **"Incoming aircraft, we have to get out of here and keep them from finding the nest!"**

**"Go."** Thundercracker rumbled as he transformed. **"I'll lead them away, keep them busy."**

Starscream, for once, didn't _want_ to leave the fight. But his code was telling him that somebody had to be back, to protect the nest and Skywarp.

**"Don't get caught; there's three of them, including that damned native jet from what my sensors tell me,"** he warned Thundercracker, transforming and taking off for the long-way back to the nest. **"Just keep them busy, and then break off as soon as you can."**

**"I can deal with them,"** Thundercracker insisted, his battle computer locking onto a plan to deal with all three. First was to glitch Cloudraker. Both tactically as the trine leader and his ability to kick aft in a fight, the claustrophobic Seeker was the most dangerous of the lot.

Fortunately, he'd also be the easiest to freak out.

**::Can't a mech pick up supplies without being interrupted?::** He radioed the approaching Autobots, turning in towards one of the large cities that waited for them further along the coast.

**::Only if you **_**pay**_** for the supplies like a civilized person,::** Stormshock snarled at him.

**::Yes, because clearly these organics need to build **_**another**_** flight hazard,::** he responded scathingly. **::You want it back, come and take it.::** With that, he dove down, tightly above busy streets, flying between banks of towering buildings.

In the back of his processors, and especially his battle computer, Thundercracker couldn't help but be impressed by Stormshock's skill in following him. Few Seekers were adept at such flying, especially as the hunter, yet this one seemed all but born to it.

She wasn't the one he was interested in though. He was most focused on Cloudraker, and the way that he and Brainstorm were both holding back from the fight.

He banked into a tighter corridor, flying sideways down glorified alleyways, between tightly packed buildings. It was a matter of nanokliks before Cloudraker broke off, heading skywards with his thrusters blazing behind him.

One down, two to go.

He hit a broad plaza, and spun around, firing his blasters at Stormshock as he flew within meters of her. They flashed against a force shield that made her light up his sensor grid for a nanoklik before she was on his tail and opened fire, intent on his engines.

He twisted out of the way, gunning his engines and generating a sonic boom that shattered the glass on either side of him, glittering shards falling through the air.

**::We need to break off,::** Brainstorm told Stormshock, pinging her with a coded frequency. **::At least bring him down safely, instead of in pieces!::**

Half to his surprise, she didn't question the order. She simply changed to non-lethal systems and opened fire again with a shocker missile.

Another sonic boom sent the missile veering off into the side of a building as Thundercracker headed for open water.

**::Patch me into your armory?::** Brainstorm asked her, his processors working hard and fast to put together a plan as he fired a low-yield charge over Thundercracker's wing, trying to keep him off balance.

**::Done,::** she linked him up to the impressive database of weapons that Jake had created over the years. It was a collection she was long familiar with, having had the weapons added one at a time as they'd been developed, but all at once it made Brainstorm whimper softly to sort through.

As he thought, she chased Thundercracker over the water and pushed her engines to see if she could overtake him.

Sonic missiles that could shatter Thundercracker's instrumentation, nets that could physically halt him, grapplers that could puppeteer his control surfaces...

One option after another streamed through Brainstorm's mind, each compared against the others and discarded or retained. Combinations of options, contingencies, backup plans...

Inside of Brainstorm's processor core, his computerized brain started to glow, first a dull red, then brighter and brighter as his processors worked harder and harder.

**::Pincers,::** he managed to transmit, the message half-garbled as his brain started to lock itself up to prevent a meltdown, self-inflicted pain and frustration screaming across his bond with Cloudraker as he started to lose control and head towards the water.

**::Crud!::** Stormshock snarled and all but flipped on her tail at full speed to stop Brainstorm from crashing into the ocean. **::Cloudraker! Get your tail down here **_**now**_**.::** she roared over an open band, desperate for the Seeker's help as she transformed to catch Brainstorm.

**::Already coming,::** Cloudraker broadcast, his transmission slightly staticky as she saw his red-and-gray form streaking down from the air. He fired his twin gravity guns from maximum range, the bright bolts streaking through the air.

**::Explosive missile, hit the water,::** Brainstorm managed to transmit to Stormshock.

Without hesitation she complied, firing a single standard missile set to detonate as it hit the ocean just ahead of Brainstorm's trajectory. The dark Seeker used the concussive wave to bounce himself into the approaching anti-grav beams, floating in mid-air as he reset his processors.

**::Slag!::** He snarled in garbled Cybertronian once he was back up again. **::Any sign of Thundercracker yet?::** He asked as Cloudraker transformed and floated next to him, still clearly jittery as he ran his claws along Brainstorm's wing surface, trying to calm him down.

**::No trace of him,::** he said, checking his scanners. **::Are you all right?::** A sound moan escaped as Stormshock joined them, turning her attentions on soothing Cloudraker.

**::Will be. Have _got_ to get those upgrades if we're working with you, Stormshock. At least then it'll take longer before I overheat like that again!::**

**::I didn't think my arsenal would be too much,::** she murmured as both Seekers settled. **::It's a bit complicated, isn't it?::**

**::It was what you can **_**do**_** with it, not the arsenal itself,::** he explained, transforming once he had the ability back. **::So many options, and so many ways to use them to do what we wanted. Next time we find him, we'll have to have some plans ahead of time for capturing him.::**

**::That, and I'm going to hope to have my crew along,::** she grumbled. **::You're both okay?::**

**::Yeah, we've had worse happen before,::** Cloudraker reassured her. **::Managed to keep it to the lower stratosphere until Brainstorm overheated. I'll feel a lot better once I can get spaceside again though,::** he admitted. **::Which we might want to do **_**before**_** you're in the same condition Skywarp is,::** he added firmly, looking at Brainstorm.

**::It wouldn't be that bad,::** Brainstorm hedged. **::But yes, let's get back to the Ark. Prowl will want to hear about this.::**

**::What did I miss?::** Stormshock looked between the two Seekers.

**::All of Thundercracker's signatures indicate that he's sired sparklings; Skywarp's carrying. That's why I told you to take him down gently. We might be ignoring an insane Winglord, but we won't kill brooding Seekers,::** Brainstorm explained as they headed out of the atmosphere.

**::So there are going to be baby seekers soon?::** she asked curiously.

**::Baby **_**Decepticon**_** Seekers,::** Cloudraker agreed, sounding sick at the thought. **::Though 'soon' isn't really the right word, in your timeframe. A vorn or two yet. But probably just a few decaorn after Skyfire's hatch, yes.::**

**::They'd be bad parents?::** Stormshock's engines rumbled at the thought.

**::Decepticons can't be anything **_**else**_**,::** Brainstorm pointed out. **::They'd be raised by a culture of psychopaths, trained to be weapons from the moment they could stand... Decepticons shouldn't breed, it's not just a joke in the war. An entire generation, trained to look forward to nothing but feeling another Seeker's lubricant flowing over their claws...::** He gave a spark-deep shudder that Stormshock could feel as they approached the Ark, the sky darkening as space welcomed them, Cloudraker starting to fly on his own again as gravity released its grip on his frame.

**::How long before they're out of Skywarp?::** she asked, her processors locked on a single subject now.

**::We are **_**not**_** stealing eggs!::** Both of them told her, everything in their protocols horrified at the very thought.

**::So it's better that innocent babies are raised to be sociopath killers of their own kind than to take them and raise them as productive citizens?::** she snapped back.

**::We have time before that... half a vorn. That's a long time on this planet, a lot can happen...::** Brainstorm was trying to explain, without re-heating his still tender processors by coming up with a concrete plan himself.

**::Yes. Yes, we have time,::** she agreed, more to spare Brainstorm than any intention to stop plotting or preparing. If it came down to it, _she'd_ raise the little ones on her own. She didn't consider herself good creator material, but she was better than insane killing machines.

**::Stormshock, it's not that we don't want to get them out of being raised as Decepticons,::** Cloudraker told her. **::It's... the programming's core deep. Check your Seeker protocol set, you'll find it's the one thing higher than following the Winglord, at least for Autobot Seekers. There are **_**reasons**_** for that. Egg wars make the Cybertronian Civil War look like an argument over what city's energon is best, just on a smaller scale to everybody except Seekers.::**

She did as requested as they transformed and landed neatly in the Ark's primary docking bay. **"Why fight over eggs, if everyone was loyal to the Winglord?"**

Brainstorm ran through his knowledge of Aristal, looking for something she'd be familiar with.

**"How familiar are you with the mob in Sayden Bay?"** He asked her after a moment. **"You know how they've got the **_**capo di tutti**_**, the boss of bosses? It's kind of like that. The Winglord rules over the Seekers, and commands all the flocks. But each flock still has its own politics, its own allies and enemies."**

She mulled that over as they walked to the officer's rec room, finally nodding as they got their energon. **"Only instead of territory or businesses, they fought over people young enough to be raised as their own?"**

**"Not instead of, but in addition to,"** Cloudraker nodded. **"Ultimately, it wasn't just looking at eggs as a resource. It was the easiest way to completely annihilate a rival flock. If they never reproduced, or you took their eggs and raised them as low-class members of your own flock, eventually they died out."**

**"Red ants, black ants,"** Brainstorm agreed. **"Now, imagine the sort of fight you'd get between flocks who've started targeting eggs. You're fighting for the **_**survival of your hatchlings**_** - you don't stop fighting, not while you can still function."** He sent out a private ping to Prowl and Dogfight to meet them in the rec room.

**"Not even the Winglord's command was always enough to stop it. Finally, we had a series of _bad_ ones. The Winglord petitioned Prime for permission to create the protocols that would end it, and he agreed. Every Seeker alive at the time, and every Seeker hatched since then, has the protocols. Eggs and brooding Seekers are off-limits."**

She thought about that as they sat and sipped their energon, her own imported Seeker protocols not enough to override her existing upbringing.

**"So ... why don't you or the Cons use that as an advantage in the war?"** she asked quietly, sure she was treading on dangerous ground. **"If no Seeker would attack a broody Seeker, wouldn't that make it easier to wide out the other side? Knock a few up and your entire air force is inviolate to the enemy air force."**

**"The grounders,"** Cloudraker explained quietly. **"They don't have the protocols and limits, and being broody affects your performance. We can't afford to have the likes of Soundwave, Blitzwing or Megatron on our afts when we're not at our peak. As for why the Cons haven't tried it... maybe they **_**are**_**, now. Cybertron hasn't been the most fertile world lately, and they might not have thought about it early on."**

**::Or maybe there's something decent left in Starscream, deep down,::** Brainstorm suggested silently. **::He might not want to open that can of worms, using hatchlings as armor.::**

**"So it's not that easy to get knocked up, even if you're trying?"** she asked curiously.

**"Despite how easy Skyfire made it look, no, it's not easy,"** Cloudraker shook his helm, his wings trembling slightly from old grief. **"It may be easier here, since the environment drives our systems to do so."**

**"Cloudraker, Stormshock, Brainstorm,"** Prowl's even voice drew their attention to the approaching mechs. **"What have you learned?"**

**"The Elites are brooding,"** Cloudraker told him. **"That's what those robberies have been about; they're stealing the supplies for a nest somewhere."**

The Autobot SIC glanced between the three born Seekers. **"How will this change their behavior, particularly after Megatron arrives?"**

**"Skywarp's going to be effectively grounded for about half a vorn, and Starscream and Thundercracker will both be seriously distracted when they're doing anything that doesn't relate to the nest and hatchlings,"** Dogfight explained. **"They'll also be very protective of their nest and eggs, and each other as a secondary factor. This could work out to our advantage. It also means that you're going to have a hard time finding any Seeker-kin who's willing to take a shot at them, and full-blooded Seekers won't, at least not to kill,"** he added.

**"And if stealing the eggs crosses the planning desk, don't tell any actual Seekers about it,"** Stormshock piped up helpfully. **"Seems I didn't get that part of the coding, or maybe my creator's values overrode it."**

Prowl hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. **"Would they accept a gift of supplies so they do not raid for them?"**

**"It's possible,"** Dogfight nodded. **"And Stormshock's quite right. It would be a very serious test of a Seeker's loyalty, if we found out. Back to the subject of the Elites, and how this might work in our favor. Starscream is much more likely to make an active move against Megatron now, and every Decepticon Seeker would be behind him. I can't imagine that he wouldn't see the threat Megatron poses to hatchlings, just by existing, let alone if he actually decided to put them to use."**

Sensor wings flicked as Prowl contemplated that, his awareness of the world around him dimming as his battle computer demanded more and more of his resources for analysis.

**"Based on Seeker culture, when would be the best time and manner to approach Starscream for an alliance?"** Prowl asked Dogfight.

**"Seeker culture, or Starscream's culture?"** Brainstorm interrupted, glancing at Dogfight and receiving a nod to continue. **"Seeker culture, it would be best to approach him shortly before Skywarp is ready to produce the eggs. They'll be at their most vulnerable, all three of them focused completely on the defense of the eggs, and we'd have a strong argument to make. But by that time, there's at least a 96% chance that Megatron will be here and have figured out that Starscream will be vulnerable then as well."**

**"But knowing Starscream, he knows that too,"** Dogfight continued. **"I would give it five or six decaorn, enough time for him to get firmly into brood mode, and for his battle computer to start shifting to contingency planning. None of the Elites are stupid, but Starscream **_**is**_** their Order, and the Winglord. His entire life was politics and battle, especially the way the two blended, prior to Megatron."** Dogfight thought things over for a few moments, running his own contingencies.

**"He'll know what Megatron is capable of, and he'll be eating himself alive trying to figure out how to protect his eggs and trine from him. We want to do this _before_ Megatron is here, regardless of the timing. Once he's here, Starscream has to commit to one course of action or the other. The Decepticons, and know that he doesn't have a choice anymore, or active rebellion, and know that he might leave his trine and eggs without a leader. He won't be able to afford to wait for Megatron to get shot down, or half-baked attempts to take over anymore. One way or another, we're going to find out just how crazy Starscream is."**

**"And just how desperate Megatron can make him,"** Stormshock commented as she absently nibbled on the edge of her energon cube. **"Has Prime ever tried to use his **_**voice**_** on Starscream?"**

**"Early in the war,"** Dogfight confirmed. **"Starscream was a match for Megatron; it doesn't affect either of them, at least not strongly enough to be more than a distraction. He came by his rank honestly,"** he pointed out. **"If we can come up with a good plan though, it might tip the scales."**

Prowl's optics brightened to normal levels. **"Dogfight, use who and what you need to contact Starscream and offer the supplies his nest will need. If you can get a sector it's in, do so with the promise we will not cross it."** He focused on the forming trine before him. **"Thank you for the intel. It will be useful."**

With that the Autobot SIC turned to leave, much of his focus internal on battle and political planning.


End file.
